


The Stranger in your Eyes

by CranberryBliss (lostyoursoul)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostyoursoul/pseuds/CranberryBliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Previously titled "If Not By Choice". </p><p> </p><p>He'd have to go and take a look at those marks, make sure he was just worrying too much and he hadn't done anything stupid that he couldn't remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good old fuck-or-die. Written for a prompt at TeenwolfKink. The first few chapters aren't beta'd.
> 
> Goes AU from 'Heart Monitor'. The Derek/Jackson locker room scene in 'The Tell' didn't happen.

\---

“It smells terrible in here anyway.” Scott sighed, pulling at his hood until it lied in place on his backpack.

“Really? In a boys' locker room?” Stiles raised an eyebrow. “That doesn't make any sense at all.”

But Scott was more than familiar with the reek of a boys' locker room and that didn't even come close to the stink that was currently assaulting his senses.

“No, it's like. . . something's rotting or dying.” Scott corrected him, about to leave the room when he stopped dead in his tracks. „Okay, seriously, what is that?“ He grimaced in disgust as another waft of the weird smell hit his sensitive nose, „It's disgusting.“

„I don't smell anything unusual. There's sweat and rubber and more sweat. . .” Stiles shrugged in disinterest, watching Scott as he started to sniff around the room, trying to find the source of the smell, “Come on, leave it. It's probably just someone's rotting underwear, not changed in weeks and now stinking up the place. . . ew, I think I made myself sick. . .”

Scott snorted at that but didn't stop looking, letting his nose lead the way. He surrounded a row of lockers, peaking into an open bag but quickly dismissed it as clean. Then another wave hit him but disappeared again quickly.

Like it was moving.

“Um, Stiles?” Scott frowned slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I think. . . there's something moving back here. . .”

He heard footsteps shuffling behind himself before Stiles appeared next to him, a wary look on his face. “Like what? An animal?” he asked, his eyes wide open.

It didn't smell like any kind of animal to Scott, not even a sick or injured one. His job had made him quite familiar with animal scents, even before he became a werewolf, so he was pretty sure he'd recognize any trace of animal in there.

It smelt human but only just.

There was one more row of lockers between them and whatever was giving off the smell and Scott hesitated for a moment before finally taking a big step past them.

And immediately came face-to-face with Jackson, staring at him with something close to rage.

“Holy shit!” Scott almost jumped out of his skin, stumbling into the lockers beside them with a clang. His heartbeat picked up a notch and he took a deep breath to bring it down again.

“What? What is it? What?” Stiles pushed past him so he could see and skittered to a halt just inches from Jackson.

“What are you doing?!” Jackson snapped, pushing Stiles back harshly before turning to Scott, “Get lost!”

“Hey, what's your problem?!” Stiles protested, barely preventing himself from falling by grabbing the edge of a locker.

Scott took another sniff, just to be sure but there was no mistake. The smell was coming from Jackson and it was unlike anything he'd ever smelled before. It was like Jackson's natural scent but turned foul, like he'd been dead for a while, lying in the blistering sun.

“God, Jackson-” Scott almost gagged. “What's that smell? That's not normal, man.”

Jackson turned his eyes on him, obviously stunned for a moment. “. . . come again?”

Scott could see that he was sweating and breathing harder than he should be after they'd been off the field for a few minutes already. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn't slept in days and he looked overall miserable.

“Are you okay? You look horrible and . . . you smell weird. Like, sick.” he tried to explain, well aware of how strange it sounded. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the smell.

Jackson opened his mouth a few times without speaking, like he was imitating a goldfish but finally shook his head. “I'm fine. Now fuck off, I want to take a shower.” He turned away again, pulling his backpack closer with shaking fingers and Scott noticed the white band-aid on his neck. Stained with blood.

“Yeah, awesome idea. Come on, Scott.” Stiles put a hand on Scott's shoulder and slightly pulled but Scott shrugged him off. He had a really bad feeling about this.

“What's that on your neck? How did you get hurt?” Scott demanded to know, grabbing Jackson's shoulder to hold him still so he could reach for his neck but he was pushed off a second later when Jackson whirled around and lashed out, hitting Scott hard against the chest.

“Don't touch me!” Jackson shouted, his eyes wide open with something that looked like fear.

“Just tell me what happened-” Scott started again but was quickly interrupted.

“Wow, can we stop it with the hitting, please?!” Stiles pushed himself between them, holding a hand up in either direction. “Come on, Scott, the asshat doesn't want our help, so let's go.”

Scott was about to protest – he couldn't just let this go, there was something seriously wrong – until he looked into Stiles' eyes and saw the message there bright and clear.

Let's go so we can talk about this without Jackson there. We'll figure it out.

Scott took one more hesitant look at Jackson who seemed to get sicker by the second, his face white as a sheet and exhaustion in his eyes but then nodded.

He let Stiles pull him out of the room, glancing back at Jackson one more time. He had moved over to one of the sinks, leaning heavily on the rim and staring at himself in the mirror.

Scott took a deep breath against the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

\- - -

“I changed lab partners, by the way.” Allison said, smiling at him but Scott stopped paying attention when that god-awful smell appeared again. He looked up to see Jackson enter the classroom, looking for an empty seat.

“To who?” he murmured absently, only half aware of what Allison was talking about. He needed to stay away from her anyway and she wasn't exactly making it easy.

The other boy had obviously showered, his hair still wet and wearing fresh clothes. Scott could smell his shower gel too, a lemon-y scent that reminded Scott too much of the cleaning stuff his mom used on the bathroom.

“To you, dummy!” Allison blinked at him and Scott forced himself to take his eyes off Jackson.

“Me?. . I mean, are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Allison replied, “this way I have an excuse to bring you home to study.”

Scott swallowed heavily, his heart beating a little faster. She really wasn't making this any easier.

“You don't mind, do you?”

Her face fell at that and Scott felt like an asshole.

“I just, I don't. . wanna bring your grade down.” he replied quickly.

He heard a barely audible moan to his right. Jackson was hunched over his desk, still as pale as he'd been before and Scott noticed that the band-aid was gone. His neck was mostly covered by the collar of his shirt but he could see a scratch there, a small half-moon mark like he'd dug his own fingernails into his skin.

Scott frowned. Why would anyone do that, scratch themselves until it bled.

Allison was looking at him like she was expecting an answer and Scott hurriedly scrambled for the right reply. She'd been saying something about studying, at her place-

“Eight thirty?” he repeated dumbly and she nodded as confirmation, smiling sweetly.

Maybe Jackson hadn't scratched himself. It could have easily been someone else, judging from the way Jackson had reacted when Scott had asked him about it. He'd probably be embarrassed if someone had managed to injure him.

It was highly unlikely that Jackson had seen a doctor about it and Scott wasn't entirely sure what infection smelt like on humans, so he figured it was possible that it was just a simple case of an untreated wound producing pus.

But then again nothing in his life had been simple lately.

“How about, uh. . . McCall?”

Oh, crap.

\- - -

After class, Jackson was out of the room before Scott could disentangle himself from Allison, so he quickly said goodbye to her, promising to be there at 8.30pm and rushed out the door, motioning Stiles to follow him.

He saw a flicker of a blue shirt disappearing behind a corner, so he took off at a run, pushing through students and teachers until he skittered into the next hallway and saw the other boy closing his locker, about to leave.

“Jackson!” A few heads turned his way but Scott ignored it. “Jackson, wait!”

Jackson briefly looked up as he heard his name being called but rolled his eyes the second he saw Scott and grabbed his backpack, quickly pushing past a group of chatting girls.  
“Not now, McCall.” Scott heard him murmur to himself but he kept running until he could grab Jackson's arm, pulling him to a stop.

“I need to talk to you.” he urged, dragging the other boy to the side, trapping him effectively between the row of lockers and the open door to the cafeteria.

“About what?” Jackson groaned in annoyance, his eyes flickering at something over Scott's head and a second later Stiles came into view next to him, leaning against the lockers, his backpack casually over one shoulder, “What the hell do you want?!”

“Those scratches on your neck-”

Jackson's eyes focused on him sharply and Scott could hear him grit his teeth.

“Thanks for your concern, McCall.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, “I didn't know you cared. How sweet. Now let it go-” He rolled his eyes again and pushed past Stiles with force.

“I think it's infected!” Scott exclaimed loudly and Jackson stopped dead in his tracks so he quickly took his chance. “Did you go see a doctor?”

He already knew the answer would be no because he could see all four wounds now, the edges red and barely clean and Scott was positive that Jackson hadn't done that to himself. It had to hurt, too, and judging from his hot, sweaty skin Scott wouldn't rule out fever.

“It's none of your business.” Jackson forced out through gritted teeth and turned around to face them again. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my well-being, McCall? Hoping to be the only team captain soon?”

Trust Jackson in any situation to bring up his desperate need for being the shining star on the Lacrosse team without Scott there to fight him for the spot. It was like it was all Jackson thought about, day and night, waiting for an opportunity to prove himself to the world, to show that he was the best.

Scott still cared about the team, of course he did. He had always liked Lacrosse and now that he was finally good at it too, he liked it even more. But he wasn't going to sacrifice anyone for a school sport, not if he could help it.

“Dude, we're trying to help!” Stiles interrupted loudly, raising both hands in defense. “You look really sick, okay? Just. . . go see a doctor or let Scott look at those scratches at least.”

Jackson huffed, gripping the strap of his backpack more firmly. He was quiet for a moment, his gaze flickering from Scott to Stiles and back before he nodded, his shoulders tensing up.

“I'll see a doctor, okay? Now piss off.” He didn't wait for an answer but turned on his heel and shoved a younger student out of the way, ignoring his exasperated protests.

“Did you see that?” Stiles asked, a pensive frown between his eyes.

“The scratches? Yeah, he didn't scratch himself, someone else did that to him.” Scott replied.

“No,” Stiles looked at him with a wary expression on his face, “they were too deep to come from someone's fingernails, you would need to dig in really pretty hard to get that deep.”

“So? You think it was something else?” Scott couldn't think of anything else that would cause something like-

“I think it was someone's claws.”

Oh. That.

\- - -

To say Scott was alarmed when Derek showed up at the animal clinic that night, trembling with rage and right on the edge of shifting, would be an understatement. Scott quickly dropped the rag and disinfectant he'd been cleaning the exam table with and stepped in his way.

“Where's your boss?” Derek growled, his eyes examining the room and the hallway to his left. He sniffed the room for any human scents but cringed, probably not liking the intense animal smell that Scott had always kind of enjoyed.

Scott fought the urge to turn around and check that the door to the adjoining room was still closed. He hoped that his boss was smart enough to stay back and let him handle this. Derek didn't look like he stopped by for a friendly chat and Scott could feel the wolf just under the surface, pacing like he was trapped in a cage, just itching for something – someone – to sink his teeth into.

“He's out, picking up an injured dog.” Scott lied and Derek's eyes squinted just slightly, clearly showing his mistrust at Scott's reply. Yeah, Scott had never been a very good liar.

Scott could hear Derek's heartbeat, thumping fast against his ribs and he thought he saw a flash of blue in his eyes when he spoke. Derek didn't believe him for a second.

“Listen, I was going to come talk to you anyway,” Scott quickly added but Derek wasn't looking at him anymore, frowning at the door behind Scott like it had insulted him. Maybe if he just told him about Jackson, about their speculation that he'd been scratched by the alpha, that'd distract Derek enough for him to leave the clinic with Scott.

“There's this guy at my school, Jackson, and he-”

“I don't care!” Derek interrupted him angrily, taking a deep sniff of the air in the room and whirled around to leave when he couldn't get past the stink of sick animals. “Forget it, I'll find him myself.”

Find him and rip him to shreds for whatever he'd done. Derek looked angry enough to kill and it was only a matter of time until he picked up the right scent and tracked it back to his boss's home. Scott had to act and fast.

“The alpha scratched Jackson!” he blurted out and congratulated himself when Derek stopped mid-step and faced him again.

“That's not going to turn him.” Derek explained shortly but there was a glint in his eyes that showed him intrigued.

“But does it do anything else?” Scott persisted. “Jackson is really sick, I think he has a fever and the scratches don't look normal either.”

Derek was quiet for a moment, deep in thought before he shook his head. “No, a scratch from a werewolf doesn't make you sick. It'd heal in just a few days, almost as fast as werewolf healing, probably leaving scars but nothing worse. Did he say it was the alpha?”

Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't particularly like Jackson, never had but he didn't want to see anyone dying from a werewolf scratch. He would never be able to relax around people again if he knew that a scratch alone could be deadly for them. His mom, Allison, Stiles. He had to keep them safe, no matter what. “No, he didn't say anything. We just thought, since the scratches really look like claw marks and you and I didn't do it-”

“It's probably nothing.” Derek interrupted him sharply. “I doubt it has anything to do with the alpha.”

Scott watched him leave before he turned back to his work. That wasn't as helpful as he'd hoped. If the alpha didn't do it either, what did that leave? Stiles had been right, the marks were far too deep to be from human fingernails but Scott didn't doubt that they were caused by someone's nails. Or claws.

And the uneasy feeling in his stomach remained as he remembered that odd little skip in Derek's heartbeat as he'd assured Scott that it was nothing.

\- - -

Derek continued to drive until he was a few blocks away from the animal clinic, almost at the edge of the forest, before he pulled over, putting the car into park but leaving the engine running. He leaned back into his seat, closing his eyes against the tension in his head.

It couldn't be. He'd remember it. It had to be the alpha who'd chosen a human mate and placed the mark already and that was all. None of his business, he couldn't safe someone dying from an unfinished claim. He didn't even know the boy, couldn't place the name with a face, even if he'd seen the boy before.

But why would the alpha leave a human half claimed, risking his certain death by not finishing the connection? He was clearly working on assembling a pack, had started with Scott and it only made sense to claim a mate as well.

Why leave the job unfinished? Derek pressed his fingers on his eyes, trying to ease his pounding headache. Even if he'd been interrupted mid-claim, he'd have to go back the next day to keep the human from getting sick.

Which obviously he hadn't done if the boy had caught a fever by now. It meant the claim had begun several days ago. In a typical mating, a human or werewolf would be bitten during sex, to make it pleasurable for both sides and to finish the connection as soon as it started to form. Leaving the claim open for longer than it took a couple to have sex, was too risky as one could never predict when he'd have to run from hunters or other werewolves.

Derek groaned and rubbed both hands over his face in frustration. It was possible. He didn't remember much from after Kate Argent had shot him, could barely recall finding Scott and Stiles at their school and begging them for help. Asking Stiles to cut off his arm. Burning the monkshood and pushing it into the wound, through the agonizing pain and fire in his body until it finally stopped, like a flush of ice-cold water on his skin, letting him think clearly again.

It was possible that he'd met the boy, claimed him and walked off, like the worst mate in werewolf history, if there was something like that, and left him to his own devices.

He'd have to go and take a look at those marks, make sure he was just worrying too much and he hadn't done anything stupid that he couldn't remember.

Or else he was in big, big trouble. And not just because he'd have to fuck a teenage boy.

\- - -


	2. Chapter 2

\---

Jackson pressed a hand to his stomach as it churned violently at the rich, warm scent of freshly-cooked dinner when he entered the house. He called a quick greeting to his mom in the kitchen before stomping up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

He knew she'd call him back down in a few minutes but he needed a little time to lie down as he felt like he was about to drop and never wake up again. He hadn't felt right for a few days now and it was getting worse.

Jackson shuffled into his room and let himself fall down face first on the bed. He groaned quietly and pulled weakly at the covers until he was all tucked in. He was sweating heavily, had been all day, but he was still shivering, his skin breaking out goosebumps every few minutes.

Maybe McCall had a point and he should see a doctor. But what was he supposed to say? That some guy scratched him and now he was having hallucinations about choking on claws? They'd probably ignore the scratches and start checking his brain for tumors. He’d have to stay in the hospital and everything.

Jackson wasn't sure why McCall cared so much anyway. Once he and Stiles had latched on to something, they didn't let go until they had it all figured out, it seemed. But Jackson could deal with this alone, it was probably just the flu. He just needed some rest and lots of fluids and he'd be fine. He'd see a doctor about the scratches if they didn't start healing in a few days but he wouldn't mention the hallucinations.

He could hear the front door being opened, his dad greeting his mom and taking off his jacket before putting his briefcase in the study, just like he always did. A few minutes later his mom called him down for dinner.

Jackson slowly disentangled himself from his blanket, hissing in pain as the movement made his neck sting sharply and send a wave of heat down his spine.

He changed his shirt with careful, ginger motions and tugged at it until the collar successfully hid his neck from view before he went down the stairs. As long as he could hide the problem from everyone around him, it'd eventually go away and he'll be fine.

 

The next day, Jackson went out of his way to avoid McCall and Stilinski since he really didn't want another scene like yesterday’s. He showed up for every class at the last second and rushed out of the room as soon as the bell rang, he excused himself from Lacrosse training and he ate lunch on the bleachers instead of in the cafeteria. Or actually, he laid down on the bleachers and rested until his next class but he was pretty sure no one had seen.

Jackson thought himself safe when he left after his last period, slowly crossing the parking lot to his car. He'd go straight home, stay in bed all day and then repeat the same thing tomorrow until the scratch marks finally healed and he could forget about this whole thing.

He felt even worse than the day before, a constant pain radiating from his neck outward, down the entire length of his spine. He was shaking all the time and eating lunch was a definite no as he'd probably puke up anything he could force down. Doing anything remotely tiring, like climbing stairs or walking from classroom to classroom or standing up from a damn chair proofed to be almost impossible as his muscles felt weak and strained.

So Jackson was insanely grateful for classes to be over and when he approached his car, only to find Derek Hale leaning against the hood, waiting for him, Jackson just wanted to be shot on the spot.

\- - -

Derek smelled the boy before he could see him appear between the other parked cars. The stink of death clung to him like flypaper, enough that Derek found his car without any problem. They didn’t have as much time left as Derek had thought and the realization felt like a kick to his stomach.

His wolf surged at the sight of Jackson and Derek had to take a deep breath against the feeling of _want take have_ that threatened to consume him. Underneath the scent of disease and death, there was Jackson's natural scent, a cool, lemon-y smell, mixed with something spicy. It made Derek's head spin a little, and his cock was half-hard instantly, despite the deep disgust he felt for what he would have to do.

Derek didn’t need any more proof, it was clear as day. He’d done the worst possible thing, claimed a human against his will. Those were his claiming marks on Jackson’s slender neck, a perfect fit for every single one of his claws. Unmistakable like a finger print.

“Jackson?” he forced himself to ask, more as a greeting than an actual question.

The boy froze at the very sight of him, a few feet away from the car and Derek could tell how hard he tried not to look as terrified as his heartbeat revealed he was. “I don’t know where Scott is, okay? He’s probably still in class or on his way home or at Allison’s-”

So the boy remembered him, not that Derek had expected otherwise. He’d probably been out of his mind with pain and the poison in his system, hadn’t held back at all. There was no telling what he could have done. The boy was lucky to be still alive.

“I’m not looking for Scott.” Derek calmly interrupted the boy’s nervous rant. “I wanted to talk to you. Get in the car.”

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say because Jackson’s heartbeat skyrocketed and he stumbled back against the hood of another car. He opened his mouth a few times but couldn’t get any words out.

Derek had expected the boy to be afraid but what had he done to terrify him like that? The wolf growled inside him, not pleased at the sight of his mate trembling in fear and weakness.

“I can’t, I have to go, I- I have a doctor’s appointment in 20 minutes-” Jackson stuttered, his eyes looking everywhere but at Derek but Derek was positive that he wasn't lying. His eyes were fever-glazed and how his parents hadn’t noticed by now and made him stay home from school, Derek had no idea. It was his luck that they hadn’t, it would have been much harder to get to him under their watch.

“That’s okay, we can talk on the way. Get in.” Derek deliberately kept his voice quiet but firm, leaving no room for further argument but not threatening him either. He couldn’t afford to let the boy escape him, not when he was so sick already.

“No, really, I-” Jackson’s voice caught in his throat and his heart suddenly skipped a beat before pounding against his ribs much faster. Derek could see fresh sweat break out on his skin and he surged forward when Jackson swayed on his feet.

But nothing could have prepared him for how it felt to touch his mate. Every cell in Derek’s body lit up where they touched and every single one seemed suddenly hardwired to his cock, rock-hard and straining in his jeans. Derek could barely suppress a moan and only the mantra _teenage boy teenage boy teenage boy_ in his head kept him from pouncing on Jackson to fuck him right there and then.

“Easy, Jackson, let’s sit down for a minute.” He slid his arm around Jackson’s waist to hold him up, his hand tingling in pleasure, and led him the few steps to the car, earning no protest from the boy who seemed to be very close to passing out.

Derek listened for a second, easily recognizing the clink of metal on metal in Jackson’s jeans’ pocket and pulled the key set out to unlock the passenger site door.

“Shit, my head’s spinning.” Jackson murmured, leaning heavily on Derek’s shoulder until Derek carefully maneuvered him into the car seat, immediately mourning the loss of his touch. Derek didn’t need anything else to make his decision.

He quickly closed the door and sprinted to the other side of the car, climbing into the driver’s seat. To anyone watching, it probably looked like he was kidnapping a teenage boy right from his high school parking lot but Derek didn’t give a damn. He had to protect his mate.

He reached over and buckled Jackson’s seat belt since the boy wasn’t making a move to do it himself and revved the engine.

And if he hadn’t alerted anyone that something was going on by now, then leaving the parking lot with screeching tires, almost running over a bunch of cheerleaders in the process, certainly did the trick.

“Where are we going...?” Jackson’s low voice came from beside him after a few minutes. He seemed a little more lucid again, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles to get rid of the dizzy feeling in his head. “What’s going on-?

Derek sighed at that, barely cutting back on speed as he turned left at the next junction. He had no idea how to even start this conversation. There was so much to explain and so little time to do it.

He took another left and then a right turn before he reached the edge of the forest. “I’m taking you to my house. You’ll be fine.” he added at Jackson’s protesting groan.

“I’m sick, okay? I want to see a doctor. Or at least take me home!”

Derek chose not to reply to that either. Maybe he should call Scott and Stiles. They seemed to be much better at this talking thing, never shutting up as they were.

Jackson’s heart was pumping a mile a minute, to the point where Derek was starting to be worried about him having a heart attack, his breath coming in short, harsh pants, close to panic. “Take me home, okay? I won't tell anyone. . . just take me home now. Please?”

His voice had a touch of desperation at the end and the wolf screamed at him to stop scaring his mate, to hug him and kiss him and make him feel protected. But touching Jackson now would make this go from bad to worse in point two seconds.

“I'm not kidnapping you.” Derek kept his voice reassuring, soothing, risking a quick glance to his mate to see his blue eyes wide, flickering anywhere but at Derek.

The boy was attractive, Derek thought. Very attractive with his strong jaw, his full lips and the smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He wasn’t wearing particularly tight clothes but Derek could still see that Lacrosse was doing him good.

He remembered seeing the boy play once, actually. Derek had been there to watch Scott, to see how he was handling the wolf during a contact sport like Lacrosse but Jackson had been impossible to overlook, always in motion, running and attacking, always going straight for the ball and his wolf had given a deep, intrigued growl at the sight of someone this challenging, this strong-willed.

Looking at the boy now, Derek almost doubted that it was the same person.

“You're taking me somewhere against my will and you're refusing to let me go home, how is that not kidnapping me?!” Jackson snapped, shifting nervously in his seat, pushing his hands into his pockets, looking for something.

“We're just going to talk, okay? I'm trying to help you. You're free to go afterward but we need to make you better first.” Derek replied, carefully choosing how to phrase the lie. He couldn't tell Jackson what they'd have to do just yet, he'd bolt as soon as the car stopped. Derek would have to tread incredibly carefully, think about every single move before he made it.

What had possessed the wolf to claim the most insecure, scared little boy in the entire town? Derek was deeply worried about its judgment.

“I don't need your help, Hale! You did this to me in the first place! Why are you taking me to your house?”

“Because we need to make you better, I already told you that. I can't undo it but we're in this together.” Derek wanted to hit himself as soon as he'd said the words. So much for treading carefully.

“Undo what?” Jackson turned toward him, his pretty face now white as a sheet. “It's just some scratches, they'll heal- oh god, what did you do? _What_ did you _do_?!”

“I made a mistake. I'll explain everything when we get there, just-”

Suddenly there was no more protest coming from the passenger seat and Derek looked over to find the boy passed out, hos body completely lax and his head resting against the window.

Shit. He couldn't take him to his house now, broken down and cold as it was it'd only aggravate his fever further. And it wasn't really a place to complete the mating claim either. He didn't even have an actual bed and the thought of fucking his mate on an old mattress made the wolf growl dangerously inside him.

Derek cursed under his breath and took a U-turn at the next junction.

\- - -

Scott looked up in surprise when someone banged loudly on his front door, completely ignoring that they had a very functioning doorbell.

“Who's that?” Stiles asked from where he was sitting on the bed, trying to throw a ball to the ceiling and catch it without hitting his face, a red spot on his forehead from the times he hadn't been very successful.

“Coming!” Scott yelled. The banging continued as he trampled down the stairs until he ripped open the front door.

He came face-to-face with Derek, holding a passed out Jackson up at his side.

“Uhm. . .” he supplied intelligently.

“Don't just stand there, help me get him inside before somebody sees us!” Derek snapped and pushed him out of the way, more carrying than dragging Jackson over the threshold.

“What's wrong with him?” Scott asked exasperatedly. “What happened?” He quickly shut the front door behind them and arranged Jackson's free arm over his shoulder, taking some of his weight. Jackson's skin was burning hot through his clothes, damp from his sweat and he was paler than Scott had ever seen anyone.

“The scratches on his neck are mine. It triggered a mating claim and now he's dying because the claim isn't complete.” Derek replied curtly, maneuvering them over to the stars.

Scott stopped short and stared at Derek, struggling to process that information. A mating what now? Dying? Jackson?

“Scott, snap out of it! We don't have much time!” Derek shouted and Scott quickly complied, helping him carry Jackson up the stairs.

“What the hell. . .?”

Stiles had apparently heard their shouting and now waited at the upper end of the staircase, holding Scott's door wide open so they could drag the boy inside and dump him on the bed.

Derek was a whirlwind of motion, removing Jackson's shoes and jacket, turning him until he was lying on his back and dragging Scott's covers over him while he spoke.

“We need to get his fever down and wake him up. Go get some medication, water, towels, whatever else you can find. I have to go get some stuff but I'll be back as soon as I can-”  
Derek trailed off, sitting down on the mattress and gently turning Jackson's face toward him. His fingertips trailed carefully over his cheek, fondly, and his eyes were a soft, deep blue, following the lines of Jackson's face.

He looked so guilty and Scott swallowed against the sudden feeling of dread in his stomach. He'd never seen Derek look like this before, like Jackson was something precious, something he needed.

Scott felt a tingling at the very edge of his consciousness while watching them together and the wolf inside him felt distraught, restless, but he didn't know what it meant. He'd have to ask Derek later.

“Okay, that's disturbing-” Stiles murmured beside him, watching the same unusual picture.

Suddenly Derek's eyes snapped up to them again. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

Stiles yelped and rushed out of the room, Scott hot on his heels.

\- - -  
When Jackson woke up, he felt like someone had taken a sledge hammer to his head. He opened his eyes to a spinning, white ceiling and felt thick blankets covering his body.

Not dead then. Dead people were covered by thin sheets, not blankets. Dead people also didn’t get headaches, he assumed.

He struggled to push himself up on his arms and looked around the room. He was alone in what looked like a normal teenager’s room, with a bed, a desk, a closet, some posters on the wall. But it wasn’t Jackson’s own room, that much he knew and it was highly unlikely that he was at the Hale house.

The open door revealed a hallway and Jackson could hear voices from that direction, talking in a hushed, upset tone and they seemed vaguely familiar but they spoke too quietly for Jackson to recognize them.

He really wasn’t going to wait around for Derek to come back or for whoever’s house it was to find him awake, so he slowly climbed out of bed on shaky legs and pulled his shoes on when he found them on the floor next to the bed.

He couldn’t see his backpack but his jacket was draped over the desk chair and he remembered Derek driving his car to wherever he was now, so he took it and felt the pockets for his car keys in case he was lucky and Derek had put them back but apparently he hadn’t.

“Jackson?”

Jackson jumped and whirled around to find Scott standing in the door. Relief flooded him so hard he almost slumped to the floor. McCall. He could handle McCall.

“Where am I? Is this your house?” Jackson asked, his eyes wide and dry.

Scott nodded and Jackson heard the shuffle of feet on carpet before Stiles appeared next to him.

Of course, Stiles was in on it too. Jackson should have known.

“What happened?” Jackson asked quietly. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Derek had forced him into the car.

“Derek brought you here. He says you're sick but. . . he'll fix it. He isn't going to hurt you, you know-” Scott hesitated and sat down on his desk, pushing some books and papers aside awkwardly.

Jackson hated the way he said that, like he was reassuring a child that there was nothing evil in its closet. Jackson had never been afraid of monsters. His parents had made sure he knew that there was nothing bad lurking in the dark. Ever since the incident in the video store Jackson questioned their judgment on that.

“Anyway, Derek said he'd be back in a few minutes but it's weird to just sit here and not tell you anything, so. . . I don't actually know where to start. . .” Scott trailed off awkwardly and Stiles rolled his eyes in annoyance from where he sat on Scott's desk chair.

“Seriously? You told me just fine and you can't tell him?” Stiles mocked.

“I didn’t tell you, I showed you! You tell him if you can do better!” Scott exclaimed with his hands raised in defense.

“Then show him, too! And anyone could do better than that. . .”

Jackson’s head was spinning. What had possessed Derek to bring him here and leave him with these two clowns?

“I can’t just show him! What if I don’t turn back?” Scott said and Jackson frowned because he wasn’t sure he understood that right.

“ _What_ are you even talking about?! Turn what? You’re just both on drugs, aren’t you? Look, whatever Derek is giving you, it’s dangerous.” he groaned, rubbing both hands over his face.

Both boys hesitated visibly, sharing a quick glance.

“Just. . . do what Derek told you to do. That anger thing.” Stiles suggested in Scott's direction.

“I don’t know how. . .” Scott murmured. “Derek. . . wasn’t exactly very clear.”

Stiles sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, we should probably work on that. . .”

Then he turned to Jackson, a hint of sympathy in his eyes that made Jackson want to punch him but when Stiles continued, his mind went blank for a second.

“Derek and Scott are werewolves.”

The phrase echoed in his head a few times before Jackson understood what Stiles was saying. _Werewolves._ He wanted to laugh but it stuck in his throat, a familiar feeling of terror choking him for a moment before he could think clearly again.

“Okay, you know what, I don’t know what kind of weird shit you’ve taken and what Hale wants from me but I’m not taking any freaking drugs and I’m not going to be his- his drug courier or whatever. And you two are seriously messed up. There’s no such thing as werewolves. I'm going home.” he murmured, defeated and pushed himself up from the bed but Scott jumped up simultaneously and blocked his way.

“I can prove it!” he blurted out, looking at him with eyes almost pleading. “I know it sounds crazy. Just. . . don't freak out, okay? Watch and. . . then let us explain.”

Jackson wanted to answer, opened his lips to do so, to tell Scott that Jackson wasn't buying that stupid story but then something happened to Scott's _face_. His eyes suddenly burned in a golden color and hair grew on his cheeks, like his beard growth was sped up by a million but Jackson didn't move until he saw the _teeth._ Big, sharp, canine teeth, snarling at him.

“Fuck!” Jackson shouted and jumped back, stumbling over the foot end of the bed and falling back onto the mattress. His heart was racing in his chest, thumping painfully against his ribs and he couldn't breathe with the pure horror squeezing his throat.

He scrambled back on the bed as fast as he could to get some distance between him and the monster that used to be Scott McCall.

And was Scott again in the blink of an eye. “Hey, it worked...! . . .No no no, wait, Jackson, listen-”

“Stay away from me!” Jackson shouted back, about to run but Scott was still blocking the door and Stiles had stood up from his chair and what if he was a _werewolf_ too? It'd take them minutes to kill Jackson and eat him, pick his bones clean and use them as toothpicks. They'd probably laugh while they did it, too.

Jackson's eyes flickered across the room in panic, considering climbing out of the window but they were on the second floor and he couldn't remember what was beneath Scott's window, was it bushes or asphalt, and would he break some bones when he jumped down, because he couldn't run with a broken leg but he just couldn't _remember_ -

“Jackson, I'm not going to hurt you. It's just me, it's Scott. Look at me, Jackson-”

Screw it, he'd just take the chance. Jackson quickly rolled off the bed and crossed the short distance to the window.

Just to bump right into Derek's chest who caught him easily and Jackson yelped and froze for a second before his limps would work again and he could push hard against Derek’s chest. He wasn’t going to get eaten by _werewolves_ or whatever else McCall had just turned into. There was no such thing as werewolves, he was pretty sure about that but then what had he just seen? He could be hallucinating, he supposed. But he hadn’t been sick at the video store.

“What are you doing?!” he heard Derek snap through the haze that was Jackson's thoughts and the other man tightened his arms around Jackson, whether to stop his struggles or calm him, Jackson didn't know and his mind refused to focus on it. “I told you to take care of him, not make him commit suicide!”

“We're only on the second floor, he wouldn't have-”

“Shut up, Stiles!”

Derek's arms were warm, holding him firmly and so sure and Jackson's heart was slowing down rapidly until he could breathe properly but he could feel he was trembling heavily.

“He. . . didn't believe us when we told him, so I. . . shifted. . .It was all Stiles’ idea, really-”

Werewolves. Both of them. Probably not Stiles. A werewolf was holding him. He'd get eaten by freaking werewolves.

A deep growl rose in Derek's chest, Jackson could hear it built up and become louder and _freaky_ before he spoke again, his voice rough.

“You weren't supposed to tell him anything. Scare him like that again and I'll rip out your _spine_ and feed it to you.”

Jackson must have heard wrong. There was no way Derek just said that. Did he just say that? Who said something like that?!

A werewolf, apparently.

Jackson took in a sharp breath and twisted his body against Derek's chest, trying to break the hold of his arms but Derek was having none of it, just sneaked a hand into his hair and _pulled_ , making Jackson wince and his eyes water at the painful sting. Then the hand relaxed and stroked his hair instead when he quieted down, like he was praising a dog but his eyes wouldn't stop burning as Jackson swallowed against the bitter bile in his throat.

If he threw up on the werewolf, he’d be ripped to shreds, no doubt about that.

“We couldn’t just sit here and not say anything! He thought it was all about drugs! We didn't know he'd freak out like that. . .” Stiles murmured but squeaked in fear when Derek snarled at him.

“How much did you tell him?” Derek asked then, his hand still carding through Jackson's hair.

“We only got to the “Surprise, werewolves!” part.” Stiles answered and then gave an audible wince. “Do you _have_ to pet him like that. . .? It's weird-”

“Stiles!” Scott hissed in warning before addressing Derek himself. “You said we didn't have much time until-. . . anyway, how much time is that, exactly?”

Time for what? Jackson was missing something really essential here.

“About. . . 24 hours, I think.”

“Wow.” Stiles grimaced. “That’s really . . . not any time at all.”

Derek snorted at Stiles' words but didn't answer, looked down to Jackson instead. “You feeling any better?” he asked quietly, moving his hand down to rub at Jackson's shoulders, making Jackson’s skin break out in goosebumps and he tried to pull his shoulders away in disgust.

“It's none of your business, now let me go-” he pushed weakly against Derek's chest and this time Derek let him, causing Jackson to stumble back onto the bed. He wasn't sure if he had the strength to stand up again so he didn't try.

He was literally surrounded by the werewolves anyway, Derek in front of him, Scott hovering somewhere around the foot of the bed and Stiles still over by the desk.

“It’s. . . really not about drugs, is it?” The words came out of his mouth before Jackson could stop them.

Scott looked down to the floor like he didn't want to be here at all, avoiding his eyes and Stiles had horror written all over his face but wasn't meeting his gaze either.

Derek was the only one to face him, his eyes a piercing blue they hadn't been before and Jackson froze in horror. Everything in him was screaming to just run for his life, better try than sit here and wait to be eaten but his legs weren’t moving.

“No. We’re trying to keep you alive.” Derek replied.

“What are you talking about?!” Jackson gasped around the lump in his throat. “I’m not dying! I’m a little sick, I get that, but I’m not _dying!_ What are- Why do you-”

He broke off when his voice clogged up. He wasn’t going to cry. No way was he going to cry. He had to get out of here somehow and crying wasn’t going to help. Hale wouldn’t let him go out of pity and Scott and Stiles really didn’t look like they had any say in this. On the contrary, they were probably as deep in as he was. Maybe Derek had told them the same story, that they were _dying_ and that he could _help_.

“Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, okay? Just let me go now.” He pleaded again.

“I can’t.” came the quiet answer from Derek and Jackson closed his eyes against the burning before Derek continued. “I’m a werewolf. What you saw at the video store was another werewolf. Scott is one, too. He’s not. . . on steroids or anything else. He became stronger and faster because he was bitten.”

Derek paused, letting the information sink in but Jackson didn’t believe a word he said.

“When I scratched you, I did something by accident. I made you my mate. When two werewolves do this, it’s because they want to spend their lives together. I. . . made a mistake. I claimed you as a mate but the claim isn’t finished. That’s what’s making you sick and you won’t get better until we complete the bond. If we don’t. . . you’ll die in a few hours.”

“You. . .” Jackson slowly opened his eyes to look into Derek’s blue ones. “You actually believe that shit? You’re completely insane. Did you escape from some mental institution?”

Derek didn’t even react, just kept looking at him with those scary eyes. “I’m not making this up. You just saw Scott change and you know those scratches on your neck aren’t from normal fingernails. . .”

He broke off to look down at his own hands. Jackson followed his gaze automatically and gasped in shock when he saw sharp, dark claws instead of fingernails. He quickly scrambled a few inches back on the bed for all the good that would do him.

“So, Scott can’t show him but you can?” Stiles chimed in, reminding everyone of his presence and Scott threw a book at him to shut him up.

Derek sighed deeply, closing his eyes to keep his composure. “Stiles. Out. You too, Scott.” he growled.

Jackson wanted to scream at them to _not leave him alone with the crazy drug dealer-werewolf_ but they were already gone, closing the door behind them.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

\---

 

“Jackson, you-” Derek started again but Jackson didn’t let him finish.

“No, stop it! I’m not listening to your insane story anymore. You’re a- a werewolf, good for you, but you didn’t- what did you call it? - _claim_ me and I. Am. Not. Dying. I don’t want to be your mate! Go pester someone else if you like it so much but _let me go home!_ ” His voice continually rose until he yelled the last part right in Derek’s face and that had just been blatantly stupid. You didn’t yell at your insane kidnapper, werewolf or no. Jackson watched TV, he knew that.

The bright, blue flash of Derek’s eyes was the only warning he got before he was thrown back on the bed and Derek was above him, pushing his shoulders into the mattress. Jackson stared in horror as his teeth elongated into sharp fangs and his face changed like Scott’s had before he squeezed his eyes shut against the sight, breathing against the stinging pain from Derek’s claws on his shoulders, tearing jagged holes into his shirt.

He was going to die. Ripped apart, just like that.

The monster growled, deep and angry, and Jackson didn’t dare to move a muscle or call for help, just waited for the inevitable bite. If he just relaxed, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much, probably be over really quickly but his body wouldn’t obey him.

“Oh god, don’t, please. I don’t want to be your mate but don’t kill me..” he whimpered, turning his face to the side, unconsciously baring his throat in a submissive gesture. His eyes filled with tears until they finally overflowed and rolled down his cheeks. “Please, just. . . take someone else. .”

The wolf gave another growl at that and pressed him harder into the mattress, roughly pushing his knees apart to kneel between them until their hips were aligned and Jackson’s eyes flew wide open.

Oh god, was that...?

He flinched when something tickled his neck, warm and slightly rough and _oh_ , that was Derek’s _tongue_. He was licking Jackson’s skin, tasting him like he was an especially delicious treat, now making low, content sounds in his throat that made Jackson’s stomach tingle.

Maybe Derek would go for his neck, tear his throat out, or his spine, like he’d threatened Scott and Stiles, so it’d be over fast. Jackson prayed that werewolves didn’t like to play with their food before they ate it.

A sob wrenched out of his throat, barely restraint and pathetic because he was sure it’d hurt, at least the very first bite but the next thing he knew, Derek was off him and pulling him up into a sitting position, looking human and guilty and worried.

“It’s okay, Jackson, you’re okay, breathe. I couldn’t control it, I’m sorry-”

He wasn’t okay, he was so very far from okay. Jackson was desperately pulling air into his lungs, his chest heaving up and down but it was like there wasn’t any oxygen at all.

“You can’t say things like that. If you openly reject me as a mate, the wolf reacts to it-”

Derek slowly rubbed up and down his thighs, soothing and comforting and his rapid breathing slowed down until it was almost bearable but the tears just wouldn’t stop, wetting his cheeks in a steady stream like a scared little kid.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. He’s just scared of losing you and he doesn’t really get that you’re human and much more fragile than a werewolf would be. Stop crying, you’re okay. It’s not going to happen again.”

Derek said more, explained what had happened but Jackson wasn’t listening. He zoned in on Derek’s hands touching him, stroking his legs and once or twice cupping one of his hands on the bed.

“I don’t understand.” Jackson murmured, restraining himself from slapping Derek’s hands away. “You’re talking about it like it’s not a part of you. You hurt me, you are the monster.”

Derek stopped at that, his hands hovering over Jackson’s legs and looked up at him, his eyes dark and serious. “It’s not that simple.” he said quietly.

“I don’t care.” Jackson replied. He couldn’t remember if he’d had ever been as afraid of something as he was of this man. He’d thought he’d die at the video store, had actually been convinced that the monster - werewolf - would kill him any second, only leave a few pieces to be identified by the police.

But this, sitting here with Derek Hale, terrified of turning him into a vicious killer with just the wrong word, weak and helpless while he touched him in a false pretense of comfort, made Jackson’s blood freeze in his veins.

Maybe that was what Derek meant. Jackson would die if he didn’t mate with Derek because Derek would kill him. He closed his eyes against the tears and took deep, careful breaths until the need to cry subsided and he could speak again.

“Why me? Why did you have to pick me?” Jackson shivered slightly and rubbed his own arms to get warmer. It was strange, he had felt really warm a minute ago.

“I didn’t pick you. Not consciously. The day I met you in school, I had been shot by a bullet containing wolfsbane. I was. . . out of my mind with pain. I don’t even remember talking to you. I wasn’t sure the scratches were mine until I saw you in the parking lot.”

Derek went to rummage around in Scott’s closet, pushing clothes from one side to the other before he returned with a thick, blue plaid shirt. It looked hideous, not even Scott would wear it, but it was soft and warm when Derek placed it around his shoulders and helped him push his arms into the sleeves. Jackson’s skin crawled and tingled where Derek’s fingers touched him.

“So how did you know?” Jackson asked. Let Derek believe that he was buying his story, as long as it’d buy Jackson some time in return. “That it was you who scratched me. If there are more of you out there-”

“I could feel it when I got closer to you.” Derek interrupted him and Jackson hated how he flinched back at that. “It’s hard to explain but mates share a kind of connection. A bond. They are more perceptive to each other. To feelings, thoughts, the other’s location. If we concentrate enough, I can find you wherever you are.”

Jackson blanched even further. If that was true, if Derek could find him wherever he was, he didn’t stand a chance. His shoulders slumped in defeat but then something clicked in his mind.

“Wait, _thoughts_? You can hear my thoughts?!”

Derek closed his eyes for a moment, like he was trying hard to stay in control. “No, I can’t hear your thoughts. I might. . . understand you better than anyone else, be more in synch with you. But I can’t hear exactly what you’re thinking.”

“Does that go one-way? Or does it work from my side too?” Jackson murmured, his mind racing, trying to bring all the new information in order and simultaneously figure out what Derek wasn’t telling him because there was clearly something missing.

“It will, once the claim is finished.” Derek nodded.

Jackson frowned as Derek just repeated his earlier words.

“What does that even mean? What do you want me to do anyway? To. . . finish the claim.” he asked, his stomach clenching painfully in anticipation. His mind helpfully supplied a variety of scenarios, each one more bloody than the last and quite a number of them staring him as a werewolf. Those didn’t look so bad, actually. At least he’d be able to defend himself.

Derek hesitated visibly, his eyes trailing over Jackson’s body where he sat huddled in Scott’s too big shirt, sick and small and scared.

When he replied, everything went quiet, like the world stopped turning for just a moment and Derek’s voice was the only thing to pierce the silence.

“It means we need to have sex.”

\---

For a moment, Derek thought the boy was going to faint when he said the words, he went so pale and quiet. He longed to hug him, to pet him and tell him it was all going to be okay. He would take care of him, he wouldn’t hurt him. But that would only make it worse, make Jackson lash out at him. His heartbeat was all over the place, Jackson’s instincts reacting to the connection and telling him to feel protected by the wolf while his mind still struggled and told him to run for his life.

Derek pouncing on him like a mindless animal hadn’t helped, of course. He had to control himself better if he wanted any chance of Jackson’s consent. He didn’t know what he’d do if the boy didn’t accept the mating. There was no alternative. It was this or nothing. He couldn’t let Jackson die, couldn’t give his mate up when he’d just been marked, just been found.

“Oh my god, i-is that your M.O.?” Jackson suddenly blurted out and Derek looked up in surprise, torn out of his thoughts. “You’re some kind of fucked up serial rapist, targeting teenagers and drugging them so you can tell them insane stories about how they’ll die if you don’t fuck them so you don’t have to rape them. Shit, I need to get out of here-”

Derek took a deep, deep breath to keep his control while he easily pushed Jackson back down onto the bed with one hand, ignoring the startled gasp he earned. The ideas that Jackson came up with were. . . creative. Completely stupid, but creative.

“That’d still be rape. I’m not a criminal and no one is taking drugs here. I know what it sounds like and I’m not trying to force you into anything but we literally need to mate to complete the claim.”, Derek explained. Nothing he said seemed to be working. Derek couldn’t seem to figure out how to handle the boy, how to make him listen.

He wasn’t a people person but normally, he at least knew how to talk to them, how to make himself clear. Everything seemed so much harder with Jackson, so much more complicated.

“I- I’m not doing it. I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t care what crazy shit you come up with, I’m not doing it. ” Jackson told him shakily, his body tense under Derek’s hand until he pulled back, let him have the distance he was craving. Poor kid. He was so afraid but tried so hard to defy Derek, to not submit to him.

“I’m not a criminal.” Derek repeated as calmly as he could. “I’m not trying to trick you into something you don’t want to do. You think I want this? I don’t. You’re really not who I would have chosen for a mate but I didn’t get to choose.” He felt a pang of hurt radiating from Jackson but he continued anyway. Sugarcoating things had never gotten him anywhere. “I’m trying to save your life, believe it or not.”

Jackson was quiet for a moment, looking in the general direction of Derek’s knees and Derek wondered if the wolf had chosen him out of sheer attraction. It was unlikely, he thought, but possible. It wasn’t like there was a rulebook for werewolves, stating who to choose for a mate based on which criteria. He’d have to ask Jackson about the meeting in the hallway one day, what exactly had been said and how Jackson had behaved toward him.

“Okay, let’s assume for a moment that all of this bullshit is true. You scratched me and made me your lover or whatever and if we don’t fuck in the next few hours, I’m gonna die.”

Derek frowned at the way Jackson said it, his voice dripping with disbelief, but nodded in confirmation. Any progress was good right now.

“What happens after that? I get better and then you’ll leave me alone? Is that your plan here?” There was hope in Jackson’s eyes and so much fear that Derek was going to say no.

Derek wished he could let him go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, mates weren’t supposed to be strangers to each other and the rare cases that Derek had heard of that featured a werewolf and an underage human, they’d been under supervision of the wolf’s alpha. Protected by the pack and the mating had been careful and gentle, as easy on the human as it could be. More often than not, the human had asked to be turned to be as close to his werewolf mate as he could be. Claiming someone against that person’s will was hard on the werewolf, so it wasn’t something that was done on purpose.

This was wrong. Hurried and scary.

If Laura was still with him, she’d know what to do. She always knew, always had a plan. She saved Derek’s ass so many times when they were younger that he’d lost count. When Derek had been barely more than a pup, always jumping head first into the most dangerous situations, she’d been there, cleaning up his mess and teaching him how to do better. She’d been the best alpha he could have possibly wished for.

But she wasn’t there to help him this time and he had to do something. He’d rather have his mate alive and hating him than dead.

“Yes.” he suddenly heard himself say. “We save you and I’ll leave you alone.”

The words hit him straight in the gut the second they were out but the damage was done. He’d lied to his mate and if the mating had been complete, Jackson would have noticed but the way it was now, he was buying it, his heartbeat slowly recurring to its normal pace. His eyes were drooping too, his energy used up and drained by the claim. Derek longed to get out of the room anyway, take a breather, calm himself down and make a plan.

“Your fever has gone up again. We can talk about it more after you’ve had some sleep. You’re gonna need your strength.” he suggested softly. He needed to get some distance betwween them.

Jackson quickly shook his head. “No way, I’m not sleeping while you’re here.” he stated firmly but the tension in his jaw and his eyes tearing up told Derek that he was suppressing the need to yawn.

“You’re tired. I’ll leave the room once you’re asleep. I’ll wait in the living room downstairs and get you something to eat later..”

“I’m not stupid!” Jackson shot back, his eyes blazing angrily. “I want to go home. I can sleep there.”

He was breathtaking like that, angry and challenging. The same fire in his eyes that Derek had seen on the Lacrosse field, the same passion. Derek felt the wolf give an appreciative growl, making Derek’s hands tingle with the need to touch, to stroke and caress.

He sighed, scrambling for the last bits of patience he had. Why did the wolf have to choose this one? Jackson was so unbalanced, scared and desperate one minute, then passionate and beautiful the next.

“I can get Scott to watch you if you want. Would that be better?” he asked. It wasn’t ideal but Scott was as close to pack as he got, so it’d do. He doubted that Jackson would be able to, much less have the energy to sneak past the three of them and out of the house but he still felt very uneasy about it. Jackson seemed. . . unpredictable. And Derek didn’t actually know him that well.

Or not at all.

“I don’t need anyone to watch me!” Jackson exclaimed heatedly but failed to hide the tremor in his voice. “And I don’t want to stay here, what part of that is so hard to understand?”

“We don’t have time for this, Jackson!” Derek shot back. “Look, you’re sick and tired and you don’t trust me, I get it. But you’re my mate, I’m not going to harm you. I know you don’t understand that yet.” How could he understand, when Derek had lied to him about the most important part? “Scott and Stiles are just downstairs. Why would I do anything to you in Scott’s house?”

“Because he’s in it with you, whatever you did to get him on your side! If all you said is true, what does it matter if I go home? You can find me there-” Jackson started again, his despair plain on his face for Derek to see. Jackson wasn't someone to hide his fear, Derek realized and he couldn't help but be impressed.

“And you’re not going to call the police the second you get a chance? If I get arrested for this, you’re dead.” Derek interrupted him harshly and Jackson’s mouth snapped shut. He had tried to make the boy understand through gentleness and comfort but obviously he didn’t respond to that very well, so Derek would try a firmer approach. “I know this is all hard to understand and you don’t believe a word I say but you _need_ to and you will, once your body starts to shut down. For now, you have exactly two choices. Either you go to sleep here like a good little mate and I get Scott to watch you or I take you to my house and you sleep there under my watch. We can argue about this until you faint from exhaustion, I don’t care. What’s it gonna be?”

The muscles in Jackson’s jaw worked furiously for a moment, ready to turn this into a full screaming match but finally he nodded, a shadow passing his eyes.“I’ll sleep here. But Scott can _stay outside_. I’m not a kid.”

He really was, Derek thought, but he wasn’t about to start another argument. He nodded his consent and waited another few minutes until Jackson had tucked himself back into bed - shooting down every attempt to help him with a glare and some more bitching - before he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. He was able to hear Jackson breathing through the entire house, could monitor his heartbeat like a heart monitor but Jackson didn’t need to know that yet.

“Hey. How is he?” Scott asked when Derek stepped into the kitchen. Stiles mumbled something while munching on a huge sandwich, seemingly consisting of at least three different kinds of cheese and as much ham as he could possibly fit on it, but Derek didn’t bother trying to decipher his words.

“He’s getting worse. I might be wrong about the 24 hours. And he doesn’t believe a word I say, except for us being werewolves.”

Stiles nodded pensively, washing the sandwich down with a big gulp of cola. “It did sound kinda crazy when you told us.” Derek glared at him but Stiles ignored it. “I mean, I believe it because the craziest stuff always turns out to be true lately but Jackson is new to this. And you should probably stop being so scary, that’d help too.”

“Anyway,” Scott quickly interjected before Derek could reply. “What are you going to do?”

Derek could hear the rustling sound of Jackson tossing around from upstairs but his breathing didn’t change and he didn’t leave the bed. Still, he’d go check on him in a bit, just to make sure.

“I’ll wait until he’s had some rest, then I’ll take him to my house.” he replied absently, glancing at the ceiling.

“And when you get there?” Stiles asked curiously. “What do you have to do to cure him? You don’t have to, like, drink his blood or something, right?”

Sometimes Derek wished Stiles had an off-switch. Or a permanent shut down.

“No.” he replied tensely. “Stop watching so much TV.”

“And stay away from the Internet.” Scott added, as if he had a clue of what was going on. Stiles replied something, probably just as geeky and stupid but Derek stopped listening when a car pulled up in front of the house.

“Your mom is home.” he interjected. “I’ll get Jackson.” It was best to leave now, he thought, before Mrs McCall noticed that something was going on. The last thing he needed was more question or even a call to the sheriff. It was getting late, Jackson’s parents might even be looking for him by now. He’d have to make the boy call them as soon as he woke up, use the universal excuse of staying at a friend’s house for the night.

“No, wait.” Scott held up a hand. “She won’t go in my room while I’m down here anyway. Let him rest a little longer, he. . . really didn’t look so good.”

A key turned in the lock, then the front door opened and revealed Scott’s mom, her arms fully loaded with grocery bags, her purse and what looked like a spare nurse’s uniform.

“A little help here, boys?” she asked tiredly when she saw them and Scott jumped up to take the grocery bags before everything tumbled to the floor.

There was a whooshing sound from upstairs, then a quiet squeak but Derek couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He really had to go check on Jackson now.

“Hey mom. That’s my friend Derek.” Scott pointed in the vague direction of the living room before carrying everything into the kitchen and Derek stopped mid-motion when Mrs McCall smiled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Derek. You’re. . . probably not a friend from school, right?” she asked, her smile a little too tense. He was never mistaken for a high school student anymore.

“No.” Derek answered, not even trying to offer an alternative. He didn’t care what Scott’s mother thought of him as long as she didn’t notice the dying kid in Scott’s bedroom. “I was just leaving.”

There was another thump from upstairs, too quiet to be heard by human hearing but crystal clear to Derek and it made him more nervous than he wanted to admit.

“Oh, you should stay for dinner. Stiles always does.” she offered, sending a fake smile in Stiles’ direction, earning a smug grin in return. They seemed very familiar with each other. “Maybe you can even help clean up after. Stiles never does.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped and Derek couldn’t help but like her.

“No, really, I’m . . . expected somewhere else for dinner. Maybe another time.” he said over Stiles’ protest and easily evaded a flailing hand that would have hit his face.

“Are you sure? You could-. . .”

Another thump, a rustle, then silence. Maybe Jackson couldn’t fall asleep but it seemed like he’d settled down again.

“But I help all the time!” Stiles protested at that moment. “I practically do Scott’s chores for him-”

“You do what now?” Scott stared at his friend in amused disbelief, unerringly picking a chocolate bar from one of the grocery bags.

Mrs McCall crossed her arms in front of her chest. Apparently, she wasn’t one to be messed with.

“Oh, is that so? Then why-...”

 _Wait._

No sound from upstairs. Silence. No _breathing_.

Derek’s stomach clenched with dread. There were exactly two possible explanations for this and both almost made him shift in horror. Either Jackson had climbed out of the window - or rather jumped, judging from the lack of scrambling sound on the roof - or Derek had been wrong about how much time they had left. It was possible, he wasn’t an expert because there were no damn experts for this-

“I have to go-”

He was out the door and around the house in seconds, using the momentum of his run to jump onto the roof, finding the right window easily because it was the only one wide open.

Scott’s room was undisturbed except for the tangled blanket on the floor, his jacket and shoes gone and Jackson nowhere in sight.

He should have known. He shouldn’t have let him out of his sight, not even for a second. He had failed to keep his mate safe and close and now he was running from Derek, sick and terrified, with the sun setting, an alpha on the loose and hunters watching their every step, just waiting for someone like Jackson to fall into their hands.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Explicit sex between guys in this chapter. You've been warned.

When Jackson woke up, he felt like his entire body was frozen, like a big Jackson-shaped ice sculpture. He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes and whatever he was lying on was so cold and wet that it crept through his clothes to bare skin, making him shiver uncontrollably.

He blinked against the haze clouding his vision but it was pitch black wherever he looked and he had to feel his way around. There was dirt and wet leaves all over the ground and it smelled like fresh rain and moist wood. The forest. How did he get to the forest?

He sat up, rubbing his bare arms and torso to get warmer. He’d been wearing a shirt when he’d left the McCall house. He remembered ripping it when jumping down from the roof because it got caught on the edge of a tile, but he’d still been wearing it. His t-shirt was in shreds as well, letting the cold in and spread all over his body.

He didn’t remember heading for the woods. He’d climbed out of the window and down the back porch and then circumvented the house to get to the street, to find people because Derek wouldn’t manage to drag him back if there were enough people around.

But he didn’t remember reaching the street. If he had, why would he double back and head for the woods? Had Derek found him before he’d gotten to the street?

He heard a rustle, like something moving through bushes.

“Derek?” he asked quietly into the darkness. “I-is that you? I can’t see you, it’s too dark. . . Derek?”

Something growled on his left, low and warning and Jackson froze mid-motion, his eyes wide. He didn’t dare turn his head in the direction of the sound, terrified to move and set off whatever it was.

He prayed that it was Derek. He’d probably be pissed at him for running away but Derek had made it clear that he didn’t want to hurt Jackson. And Derek had probably expected him to take off at some point, he’d be an idiot if he didn’t, so he shouldn’t be that surprised-

The sound of leaves ruffling, then footsteps coming closer. More than two feet. Jackson held his breath, blinking against the tears threatening to fall. Derek wouldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t. He’d had so many chances to do so already and he hadn’t.

But he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second, scrambling up his last bits of courage and then carefully moved back on all fours, one limb at a time, trying not to jostle any of the leaves on the ground.

His back suddenly hit a tree and he gasped, his heart almost stopping. The tree bark was digging into his back but he pressed himself closer anyway, like he was trying to disappear into the tree and maybe he was.

Another growl, closer than before but Jackson still couldn’t see anything. Anyone. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, maybe loud enough to be heard by a werewolf, and the thought made his skin crawl. He couldn’t get away, there was nowhere to hide. He didn’t even know where exactly in the woods he was and it was too dark to see past the tree right next to him.

He didn’t dare to run. He’d watched a lot of horror movies with Danny; the one who ran was always the one who got killed first. Running attracted attention. He’d learned that from the movie about the unicorns that Lydia had forced him to watch-

And suddenly it was there, right in front of him. Something shifted in the dark, a shadow between more shadows and then the eyes appeared, glowing in the black space between trees. Red eyes.

 _Not Derek._

“Oh shit-” he yelped, too terrified to close his eyes as the wolf came closer, setting one huge paw in front of the other, leaves crunching beneath them. “P-please, don’t-” He choked on the words when the wolf surged forward without warning, his paws hitting Jackson’s shoulders hard and pressing him into the tree.

It was the one from the video store, the one who’d killed the clerk, pushed him to the ground and then jumped right through a window. Jackson hadn’t gotten a good look at it then but there was no mistaking it now.

“Y-you let me go last time, remember?” He stammered, flinching when the wolf growled in response, digging its claws into Jackson’s barely covered shoulders. “You saw these and-” he leaned his head to the side and lowered it, hoping for the scratches to be visible. “-and then you let me go. . .”

It occurred to him that reasoning with a big-ass werewolf who probably ate a person for breakfast each day might be useless but he didn’t know how much human consciousness was still active when a werewolf shifted. He should have asked Derek, should have asked him _anything_ about werewolves but he’d been busy being stupid.

The beast made a noise in its throat, like a quiet rumbling and then dipped down. Jackson closed his eyes in horror, gritting his teeth as hard as he could when he felt a wet nose sniff his neck, leaving a rapidly cooling trail behind while moving up to his neck and then to his cheek.

It was close enough that Jackson could smell it, a combination of wood, earth and wet dog. He could feel short, scratchy fur tickling his skin and he had to dig his fingers into the ground to stop himself from pushing the wolf away in disgust.

Derek hadn’t looked like that when he shifted. His face had changed and his eyes had glowed blue but he’d still been Derek, sort of. He’d had the same sharp claws though and Jackson briefly wondered why he was always the one who had them dig into his skin because it fucking _hurt_ -

“Ow, what-” Jackson cried out in surprise when the wolf suddenly shoved him to the side, insistingly pushing and nudging at him until he moved on his own, away from the tree and uphill behind it. He slipped on the muddy earth more than once, stones and little twigs digging into his palms.

The wolf growled and yanked at his t-shirt when they reached the top of the hill, pulling him to a stop.

“What now? Are we. . . staying here?” Jackson asked shakily. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the wolf was taking him to his lair to eat him there in the comfort of its home. He was incredibly tired, his body barely obeying him anymore and the cold had probably sunk into his bones by now.

Or maybe it was interested in something entirely different because the werewolf was still pulling at his t-shirt, yanking at the battered cloth until it ripped more and more. Jackson watched helplessly, eyes wide and horrified, while the seams popped one by one until the last one gave way and the t-shirt was pulled from his body.

Oh god, please let him keep the jeans, please let him-

The werewolf gave a growl, dark and warning and then turned on its heel and dashed away, right in the direction they came from, Jackson’s t-shirt in its maw.

It was laying a trap, Jackson realized. It was using his clothes - his scent - to lure someone here, Derek, maybe.

But what if Derek wasn’t coming? What if he wasn’t even looking for Jackson? He’d made it clear that this entire situation hadn’t been his choice either, that he was just trying to cope and make the best of it. He was trying to save Jackson’s life, he’d said. His own life wasn’t even on the line.

Cold dread filled Jackson’s stomach, made him shiver even harder. If the werewolf was laying a trap for Derek and Derek wasn’t coming. . . then Jackson was going to become very disposable very soon.

Without thinking, he stumbled to his feet and ran. Down the hill and as fast as he could, the cold wind making him shiver. He crashed through branches and bushes, almost ran into a tree more than once and almost lost consciousness when he tripped over a stone and fell, cutting his palm open on something sharp.

He cursed and stayed still for a moment, feeling the wet earth against his chest. He stared at the long gash on his palm before he could react, putting pressure on it with his other hand. He tried gathering his strength for a few seconds and listening for anyone following him. He wasn’t sure for how long he could keep running.

His entire body ached, bone-deep, whether from the cold or the sickness he didn’t know but he wouldn’t make it until the edge of the forest. Running in the opposite direction of the werewolf probably meant that he was running away from the street. Deeper into the woods. Jackson blinked against the burn in his eyes, wiping across them with the back of his hand, probably smearing dirt everywhere.

 _Stop crying, you’re okay._

Fuck Derek, this was all his fault. If he’d controlled himself, he wouldn’t have scratched Jackson and they wouldn’t be in this mess.

 _I made a mistake._

A mistake. Something he had to fix, that’s what Jackson was to him. Something that wasn’t right, wasn’t natural. He’d said he was trying to save Jackson but that really wasn’t what this was about.

 _When two werewolves do this, it’s because they want to spend their lives together._

Instead, Derek planned to fuck him and then leave when he was better. Not that Jackson had other plans in that aspect, he didn’t, but that didn’t make it any less fucked up.

 _You think I want this? I don't. You're really not who I would have chosen for a mate but I didn't get to choose._

Jackson swallowed against the lump in his throat, wiped the wetness from his eyes once more and pushed himself to his feet, slightly swaying on shaky legs. Derek wasn’t coming for him, probably hadn’t even looked when he’d noticed Jackson gone. If he had noticed at all.

It was stupid, he wasn’t going to outrun a werewolf, not even on a good day and especially not on this one, but he couldn’t just sit here and wait for it to-

Jackson cried out when something slammed into him from the side, pushing him over onto his back and into the wet ground. He stared up into furious, red eyes.

“Please” he begged, “please, don’t. . . I-I won’t run again, I swear-”

The wolf snarled at him, all fangs and strong jaw and Jackson squeezed his eyes shut when it moved in on his neck, preparing himself for the pain that never came.

There was an earsplitting howl and a crash, together with a gush of wind and Jackson’s eyes flew open.

 _Derek._

The man stood with his back to him, his shoulders pulled together in a defensive stance, trembling in rage and staring at the alpha werewolf he’d shoved away from him with a strength Jackson hadn’t known he possessed.

Derek was here. Saving him. Like a fucking storybook hero.

With an incredible rush of relief, all the adrenaline left his body at once, making him slump to the ground and watch helplessly as the alpha surged forward.

He swiped Derek off his feet with one hit from his huge paw and jumped on him as soon as he was down, clawing and growling and _shit, he was going to kill Derek._

“No. No no no. _NO!_ ” Jackson shouted at the top of his lungs but he was ignored. He tried to push himself up, to find something to throw at the alpha, a rock maybe, or a branch but couldn’t find anything in his panic and suddenly he heard Derek’s voice, loud and clear over the monster’s growls.

“He’s my mate! Not _Scott’s_ , you have the wrong person!”

What?

Did the alpha take him because he thought he was Scott’s mate? That didn’t make sense-

The alpha stopped, his claws dug deep into Derek’s arm that he’d raised to protect his face. The wolf hesitated visibly, wavering indecisively before sniffing the air, then Derek’s arm, then the air again.

And then it left, pushing off Derek and disappearing into the woods, out of sight in mere seconds.

“Derek-” Jackson’s voice caught in his throat. “You okay- Derek!”

He struggled to get to his knees but his legs gave out underneath him. He couldn’t see much except for a dark shape on the ground but he’d seen the alpha lunge at him so he was probably hurt badly. “Derek!”

The shape stirred, slowly moving once limb at a time, then pushing up into a sitting position and suddenly kneeling in front of him a second later, blue eyes boring into Jackson’s and he’d never been more grateful to see someone in his entire life.

“I’m okay, calm down. Are you hurt?”

Jackson couldn’t say a word, his throat completely choked up and a few tears spilling down his cheeks, leaving clean streaks on his dirty skin. He quickly shook his head.

“Okay. Let me just make sure.” Derek said quietly and began to run his hands over Jackson’s body, light and careful and Jackson sat unmoving while he did. Derek found the cut on his hand and a few bruises and scratches that he traced with his fingertips.

“W-What was that?” Jackson forced out breathlessly. “Why- how did you-” His heart was still going a million miles in his chest, pumping like it was trying to break his ribs from the inside.

“Breathe, Jackson. You’re fine.” Derek murmured, wiping a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. “He mistook you for Scott’s mate. He tried to lure him out here by leaving your scent all over the place. He’s gone now.”

“Why did he think. . . that I was Scott’s mate?” Was there a way for werewolves to tell? Like a sign?

“He probably saw you leave Scott’s house, wearing Scott’s clothes, smelling like him because you were in his bed. . . so he just took you. Don’t worry, he won’t do it again, he’s not interested in my mate-”

“How can you know that?” Jackson blurted out, his voice trembling. What if it changed its mind, came back as soon as he was alone again, as soon as Derek didn’t protect him anymore? Derek wasn’t going to stay with him after the mating was complete, he’d said so, and Jackson didn’t know how to protect himself from an alpha werewolf.

“Because I’m not his pack, you’re not his pack, so he doesn’t need us. He’s focused on Scott, okay? I’ll explain it all later. Now let’s get you home, you’re freezing.” Derek rubbed his arms soothingly, his warm hands a sharp contrast on Jackson’s cold, naked skin. Jackson nodded quickly, trying to stand up with Derek’s help but his knees were shaking and he was just _exhausted._

Derek’s arm slung around his waist and pulled him upright, keeping their bodies close together and gently pulling him forward.

“I got you. Come on, it’s not far.”

The started walking, their bodies pushing together with every step and Jackson felt _safe._ The feeling was overwhelming and consuming, overshadowing all other emotions for the moment. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Derek looked at him, his eyes glinting with worry. “Jackson?”

“I believe you.”

“What?” Derek gently laid a hand in his nape, just over the mating scratches and Jackson could suddenly feel the concern and fear coming from him, clear as day.

“I believe you. About the mate thing. I-I’ll do it. Complete the bond.”

Feelings exploded in his chest, deep gratefulness and relief and _happiness_ , all at the same time and they were all coming from Derek.

\---

Jackson had never been at the Hale house before. He'd seen it from afar, passed it a few times and seen pictures of it in the papers when it burned down years ago. It looked like disaster and death, but Jackson wasn't scared of it. His body was numb and cold, almost enough to distract him from what was about to happen. He was saving his own life. He had to focus on that for as long as he could or he'd run again.

It shouldn’t be such a big deal. It was just sex. People did it all the time in every possible way, even with complete strangers, and Jackson had slept with a girl before. It’d been far different from what he’d expected, very inexperienced on both sides and more hit-or-miss than he wanted to admit but he’d liked it and so had the girl.

Danny had told him about sleeping with a man. He’d called Jackson after his first time, still nervous about it and a little shaky and had told him everything. In detail, even. It didn’t gross Jackson out at that time because Danny was his best friend and nothing Danny did and liked could ever gross him out.

So sex with Derek shouldn’t be this huge thing, hanging over them like a storm cloud waiting for lightning to strike.

“Come on.” Derek said softly, interrupting his thoughts by nudging him forward with the arm he’d slung around his waist to support him when his legs had threatened to give out on the way here.

He was getting worse. The fever had broken but he was shivering all the time now. Stumbling around in the woods and crawling over wet earth hadn’t helped with that and now he couldn’t really make his legs support him anymore. His stomach rolled whenever he moved too fast so he had Derek walk them slowly to the house, one step at a time, while he kept his gaze firmly on the ground in front of him, first the wooden porch and then the hallway until the reached the stairs.

The climb up was difficult and slow and Jackson grabbed Derek’s shirt when his foot caught on a loose panel and he almost fell forward, but eventually they made it and Derek steered him towards a door on his right which lead to a bathroom.

It was in a slightly better state than the rest of the house, the tiles on the walls cracked or missing but the ones on the floor were new and clean, as were the sink, toilet and shower.

“Did you repair all that?” Jackson asked quietly, his voice low and raspy. It couldn’t have been easy, rebuilding the home his entire family had died in. He wasn’t sure why Derek did it at all. It couldn’t possibly hold any good memories for him.

“I needed a bathroom.” Derek shrugged, helping him get to the toilet so he could sit down on the lid. “Do you need help?”

Jackson’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “With _what_?”

“Undressing. Washing.” Derek replied, entirely unfazed. “You’re dirty and you’re freezing, you need a hot shower. So do I. And then...”

And then they’ll have sex, Jackson added silently when Derek didn’t continue.

Jackson’s mind played out his options for him in a split second. He could stay as dirty as he was and make sex with Derek even more unbearable because he’d be disgustingly filthy or he could shower alone and possibly faint and crack his head open on the tiles which would make sex with Derek unnecessary but also result in his death. . . or he could suck it up and accept Derek’s help.

It was fascinating how he never had any remotely good options these days.

“I’m good.” he finally decided on a middle ground. “You can. . . stay close, just in case.”

Derek looked slightly grim at that but nodded, stepping back and leaning against the tiled walls. He didn’t watch Jackson pull off his remaining clothes slowly, first Derek’s shirt, then his shoes, socks and jeans. His fingers stopped on the waistband of his boxers.

He’d undressed in front of other guys a million times before. No one was actually very shy after hours of intense lacrosse practice with Coach Finstock screaming in your face. All you wanted to do was wash all the sweat and grime off and relax under the hot water.

This shouldn’t be any different.

“Just do it.” Derek suddenly murmured, still looking at the floor. “I’m not looking.”

“I know you’re not looking!” Jackson snapped without wanting to, pressing a hand against his temple to soothe the deep headache, “Just shut up, okay?”

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and then pushed the boxers down. He didn’t check if Derek still wasn’t looking but quickly stepped into the shower and turned the water on.

The first touch of wet heat on his cold skin made his knees buckle and only his remaining reflexes prevented him from tumbling to the floor. He quickly caught himself on the metal pole above him, breathing deeply when he retrieved his balance.

“Step back.”

Jackson yelped in surprise when Derek opened the glass door and stepped inside the shower cubicle without hesitation, making Jackson slump against the opposite wall and when had Derek _undressed?_

“What are you doing?! I said I don’t need your help-!”

He couldn’t handle this, too much naked guy skin on too little space and oh god, those were Derek’s arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, almost enough so their chests touched.

Something inside his chest loosened, a knot that had been there ever since he’d woken up in the woods, staring into the alpha wolf’s eyes with no one in sight to save him.

“I’m not going to risk you hitting your head, so suck it up.” Derek grumbled, letting his hands rest on the small of Jackson’s back. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall but I won’t touch any more of you for now. It’s not up for discussion. The sooner you accept this, the sooner we’re out of here. So get on with it.”

Bastard.

Jackson gritted his teeth against the need to kick Derek in the balls and turned away to grab the shower gel. Derek was so full of shit, claiming to go at Jackson’s pace when he really just bossed him around. Why would he give him choices if he was just going to do what he wanted anyway?

Right, because he didn’t actually care. He wasn’t doing this for himself. He didn’t get anything out of it in the end. It wasn’t his life in danger, he didn’t need Jackson to like him.

It’d be over soon. Just a little longer and Jackson would be out of here. He’d go home and he’d be fine. He wouldn’t have to see Derek again, he could forget about this whole thing.

The hot water felt good on his cool skin, quickly warming him up and dissolving the dried dirt that was sticking to him everywhere, but he couldn’t relax so he just started cleaning himself where he could reach.

His arm brushed Derek’s when he reached down to wash intimate places, his fingers cold and shaking, and he kept his eyes firmly on the tiles next to the werewolf’s shoulder so he didn’t have to see if he was watching.

When finally the last of the soap had left his skin, he pushed against the hold and Derek stepped back without a word, his hand moving to Jackson’s upper arm until he was safely out of the cubicle and on the bathroom rug.

A chill passed over his skin when Derek finally turned away to pass him a towel. This place really needed some heating installed.

“Sit down and wait, I won’t take long.” Derek said and stepped back into the shower, keeping his back to Jackson while he cleaned up.

Jackson shouldn’t watch. Derek hadn’t watched and it wasn’t fair.

But he had to know what to expect, right? He shouldn’t go into this blind--

“You have to stop thinking about this so much.” Derek suddenly said from behind the glass wall and Jackson flinched. “You’re just making yourself more nervous.”

More nervous? Jackson was pretty sure it wasn’t humanly possible to be any more nervous.

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” he murmured. He knew Derek could still hear him over the sound of the shower. “The bond doesn’t work that way.”

“I don’t need the bond for that. You’re like an open book.”

Jackson’s shoulders tensed sharply. “I’m not. Don’t do that, don’t. . . talk to me like that..”

“Like what?” Derek turned around and Jackson quickly averted his eyes. Derek sighed in annoyance. “God, Jackson, just look, okay? We’re going to have sex in a few minutes and you’re really not making this easier for any of us by playing the blushing virgin.”

Jackson’s jaw dropped. “I’m not- You-. . I’m not playing anything! I’m not gay, this is a fucking big deal for me-”

“And you’re making it even worse by obsessing over it.” Derek turned the shower off and the sudden silence made him uncomfortable until Derek reached for a towel to wrap around his hips and continued, his voice soft. “It won’t be as bad as you’re imagining it. I know what to do, I’ve done this before. It’ll be over fast and it won’t hurt much. And you’ll feel better afterwards, your body will recover quickly after you’ve had some rest.”

Jackson snorted. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Derek just nodded and helped Jackson to his feet.. “So I’ve been told. You’re lucky it’s not true.”

 

The sight of the large bed with the thick, gray bedding and a sturdy, wooden frame made Jackson's heart jump in his chest but he quickly sank down on it when they reached it, so Derek could let go. He was surprised Derek even had a bed. A dirty, old mattress sounded more like him but the bed looked new, barely slept in.

“We can . . . talk for a few minutes, if you want.” Derek said quietly while he sat down next to Jackson, leaving a few inches of space between them.

“You said we don't have time. That it’d be over fast.” Jackson replied, his voice pathetically small and he couldn't seem to stop staring at Derek's eyes, bright and blue. “What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know but,” Derek's frown deepened, like he was fighting a headache, “I don't want to, just, jump in either-”

Jackson's stomach suddenly rolled and he swallowed against the rush of saliva in his mouth. “I- I think I'm gonna be sick-” he gasped and Derek reacted in the blink of an eye, grasping Jackson's chin so he had to look at the man.

“You don't. Just take a deep breath. In and out, come on.” Derek urged and started rubbing his back soothingly with one hand while Jackson breathed, his chest heaving, and he tried to do what Derek had said and stop thinking about this as such a big thing but it _was_ and why couldn’t Derek understand that?

A wave of calmness and security came from Derek and Jackson pulled away when the nausea subsided a little, rubbing his face with both hands to clear the haze in his mind, and then shook his head. He didn't want to draw this out. The longer they waited, the less lucid he was and if he had to do this, if he had to sleep with a werewolf, a stranger, then he wanted to be wide awake and as much in control as he could possibly be. Which wasn't a lot but Jackson would take it.

“No, I- I don't want to talk. I want to get this over with.” he replied and Derek quickly nodded his consent.

“Okay. Do you. . . want to kiss for a while? It might help with your nerves.”

Nerves. Like he was a girl, about to have her first time.

Jackson's stomach cramped again at that but he didn't know what to say. He didn't particularly want to kiss Derek, had only once kissed Danny at this really wild party about a year ago, but he barely remembered that and was it any different? Kissing a man? He couldn't decide whether to start out slowly, ease into this as much as they could or just jump to it, get it done as fast as they could. Both options sounded equally good and horrible to him.

“I don’t wanna do this. . .” he murmured, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. Derek huffed in annoyance, pulling away, and unwrapped the towel from his waist to throw it on the floor, making Jackson flinch in surprise.

“Me neither.” the werewolf replied harshly, “but we have to. At least try to help me out here? It’s not easy for me either, believe me. I’m basically raping my mate, the wolf is going berserk, I have no idea how to control it through this and I still have to get hard somehow. So _please_ , just try to get through this with me. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

Jackson couldn’t do more than shake his head, his throat tightening. He hated this, being so weak and so scared of something people did every day, something that should be natural and, according to Danny, awesome, something that he should do with someone he liked.

Maybe he could have liked Derek. Not like this but as a friend. If this hadn't happened, if he hadn't provoked Derek that day in the school hallway. If Derek hadn't scratched him, hadn't pushed them both head-first into this, not even remotely ready. But it was too late now and Jackson doubted they could ever even be friends.

“I _am_ trying, okay?” Jackson finally rasped out. “We can. . . we can kiss. I can handle kissing.”

If Derek noticed the lie, he chose not to call Jackson on it. He just leaned forward, very slowly crossing the space between them and Jackson froze, his eyes falling shut to avoid Derek's intense stare.

A second passed, then two, before Derek's lips brushed his and he flinched away automatically but Derek followed him, wordlessly obeying Jackson's earlier decision to do this and their lips met, too warm and too soft and _he hadn’t asked for this_. Jackson quickly opened his lips against Derek's mouth, demanding to deepen the kiss.

Derek was there in a second, his tongue darting out to meet Jackson's and for a while he thought he could do this. It didn't actually feel bad. Derek was a good kisser, experienced and easily falling into a rhythm with him.

Derek’s arms slung around Jackson’s waist, more like support than holding him and Jackson let himself be pushed back into the soft pillows, groaning quietly when the ache in his back lessened. He brought his arms up around Derek’s neck, holding on, and Derek made a grateful sound in his throat.

Jackson felt a hand at his knees, carefully pushing them apart and he tensed, pulling away from the kiss.

“Wait, no-” he gasped, his eyes wide, when Derek slid between his legs, their hips perfectly aligned, and Jackson had never felt another man this close, this intimate, with nothing separating them.

“Relax.” Derek murmured against his lips, a hand on the outside of Jackson’s thigh, stroking up and down in soothing circles. “It’ll feel good. Let it happen.”

Jackson couldn’t suppress a moan when he felt another cock rub against his own, all soft skin and sweet friction, making familiar heat curl in his belly. It took only seconds for him to grow hard, his body entirely on board with what was happening which wasn’t really that surprising, considering that Derek really seemed to know what he was doing.

They were kissing again now, hurried and messy, but so good that Jackson managed to relax a little. There was something like hunger coming from Derek’s side, meeting Jackson’s despair and fear but Derek licked into his mouth again, distracting him as much as he could. Jackson crossed his arms behind Derek’s neck and pulled him closer until their chests touched, using Derek as his support, his lifeline. They were in this together, at least for now.

Derek’s hands were soft and all over his body, rubbing Jackson’s skin wherever he found a spot that still felt cold despite the hot shower earlier until he was satisfied that Jackson felt as warm as possible. He was taking care of him, Jackson realized. He’d meant it when he’d said that he didn’t want to jump into this. Derek was trying to make this good for him somehow and Jackson’s stomach ached sharply at the thought.

“Can we-” he started but broke off when Derek pulled back slowly and met his gaze. They were too close to see each other clearly but the question still shone brightly in the other man’s eyes. “I’m. . . I’m okay but. . . I’m getting tired.”

It was only half a lie, his body weak and completely exhausted but not enough to rush through this, and they both knew. Derek nodded anyway, his jaw tense, and reached under the bed to get the small tube he’d had stashed away there.

“Turn around.” Derek commanded gently, tapping Jackson’s hip with two fingers, and Jackson gratefully complied, even though his head ached sharply at the motion, because this still felt better, not as weak and scary when Derek wasn’t covering him with his entire body.

Derek pushed his legs apart again, nudging one of his knees further up until he had the space he needed. Jackson expected Derek’s hands on his ass, it was the logical next step after all but still flinched when he felt it, soft fingers exploring the skin between his cheeks, trailing down to stroke his balls and back up.

What he hadn’t expected was being so sensitive down there, his skin tingling wherever Derek touched him, making his dick twitch against the sheets and leak pearl-white drops of precome.

“That okay?” Derek asked quietly, seeking reassurance. Maybe he was just as nervous as Jackson. “I have to prepare you a little. You know what that means, right?”

“Yeah. Fingers.” Jackson grunted, squirming a little when Derek’s fingertips found his opening, tracing around the rim gently, carefully. It felt good, really fucking good, and if this had been all they’d had to do, Jackson could have liked it, he thought. He closed his eyes and pushed his face into the pillow, muffling his next words. “Do it.”

There was the quiet sound of the tube being opened, then a moment of pause while Derek stroked along the backside of his thigh with one hand before the fingers on Derek’s other hand slipped between his cheeks. He flinched at the touch of cool lube being rubbed into the skin around his opening but it warmed up quickly when Derek kept massaging the skin in little circles, adding more and more gel until everything felt wet and smooth and relaxed.

“Fuck-” Jackson groaned heartily, spreading his legs just a little bit more. The heat in his belly spread, first down to his steel-hard cock and then up to his head, clouding his vision. He felt himself slipping into a kind of dreamy state but he wanted to stay awake, needed to stay awake and keep some control.

He felt the now familiar panic rising up, tried to close his legs and gasped when Derek held them open with firm hands. “No, wait, Derek-” He reached back with trembling fingers, closed them around Derek’s wrist and pulled him away weakly, only succeeding because Derek let him.

“What? What’s wrong?” Derek urged, turning his hand so he was holding Jackson’s with it.

“I can’t. . . can’t stay awake.” Jackson murmured, blinking hard against the tears threatening to fall. “You have to hurry up-”

“If I hurry, I’ll hurt you.” Derek stated. “It’s okay. We knew this might happen. You’re getting weaker. Just relax-”

“No!” Jackson insisted, his voice small and scared. “I have to be awake for this, _please_ -”

Derek was quiet for a moment but Jackson didn’t look up. If asked, he’d say he felt disappointment radiating from him because Jackson wasn’t trusting him, not enough to give himself into Derek’s hands like this. But he wasn't sure, couldn't really identify it. Was that how the bond worked? Would it stay like that, them being able to tell how the other felt. Derek had said something about it but he couldn't remember.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” he started, feeling the need to set this right.

“You don’t trust me.” Derek stated as a matter-of-fact. “I know that. It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s not it.” Jackson insisted anyway, his voice slightly slurred. “But I can’t just. . . sleep through this. I’m losing my gay virginity here, I can’t wake up and. . . know that it’s done and I have no idea what happened.”

If this was happening, he owed it to Danny to tell him all about it and let himself be mocked for being scared.

Also, the thought of being completely at a werewolf’s mercy didn’t get any less terrifying, no matter how nice Derek was.

Derek sighed, rubbing his clean hand over Jackson’s ass again. “What do you want me to do? I can’t keep you from fainting.”

“I know but you have to.” Jackson murmured. “I have to tell Danny.”

“Who’s Danny?”

“Danny!” Jackson frowned, raising his head. “I just told you, I have to tell Danny, fucking pay attention...!”

He broke off when Derek patted his thigh soothingly, gently pushing his head back into the pillow, raking his fingers through his hair a few times and yeah, that felt pretty nice. “It’s okay. You’re not making sense but it’s okay. Don’t worry. You can tell Danny all about it.”

“About what?” Jackson asked quietly. “I can’t think--” His headache worsened by the second but his dick was still hard enough to pound nails although he couldn’t remember why.

“Not important. We’ll talk about it later. Just relax now.”

Right, _oh_ , there’d been fingers, playing around at his ass and they were back now. Gently massaging the rim and then a fingertip dipping inside, just to test, to check. Little sparks of pleasure penetrated the thick fog in his mind and he thought he felt pain when the finger pushed inside insistingly but nothing could be worse than the pain in his head.

He moaned quietly, rubbing his hips against the mattress, moving against the finger, two fingers now, moving in, in, _in_ and then out again, so slow and deep and Jackson groaned at the feeling, pushing his ass up a little to demand more, faster.

“Fuck-” Derek growled quietly. “I’m sorry, I can’t wait...”

Jackson didn’t know what he was talking about but he didn’t care as long as the fingers kept thrusting into him, pushing against that spot that really fucking awesome.

He moaned in disappointment when the fingers left but then Derek’s body was covering his, a hot smooth chest against his back and he felt blunt pressure at his opening, pushing and rubbing, making his skin tingle with need. He tilted his ass up just so, to, maybe, make it easier and _oh. Oh god._

Derek eased into him like he belonged there, all pressure and a little pain and something inside Jackson slotted into place. His eyes shot open when he was suddenly wide awake, everything rushing back and making sense again. It was like a floodgate being opened, sensations pouring into him from all sides, from _Derek._

“Oh shit-” he gasped, reaching back on reflex to feel where they were joined, tracing the part of Derek’s cock that wasn’t in him with trembling fingers, earning a quiet growl from behind him.

“I have to move.” Derek groaned desperately, leaning his forehead onto Jackson’s shoulder. “Please, Jackson-”

“Yeah.” Jackson panted, one hand pushing against Derek’s abs. “Yeah, okay.”

Derek pulled back, as slowly as he could until just the tip remained inside and then pushed in again and okay, that one really hurt so Jackson had to bite his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the burn of tears, moving one hand down to grip his wilting erection, trying to distract himself a little by jacking it the way he liked, fast and a little rough.

Suddenly Derek’s arms tightened around him and pulled him up, moving back so that Jackson landed in Derek’s lap, sinking down on his cock until it was impossibly deep, shouting in surprise at the feeling of it dragging along his prostate.

“Move.” Derek ordered, sounding dark and wrecked. “You’ll be okay now. It won’t hurt as much if you do it at your pace.”

Okay. He was okay. Safe.

Jackson almost sobbed at the thought and complied, grateful for Derek’s hands supporting his hips when his thighs trembled with the strain of moving up and down. He went slowly at first, trying to get used to the feeling of having Derek so deep but the white-hot pleasure that coursed through him at every stroke surprised him again and again. His hand was still moving quickly in his lap, his cock now rock-hard and leaking.

“Fuck, let me-” Derek murmured and pushed his hand away and yeah, someone else’s hand on his dick was so much better, bringing him to the brink of orgasm in the blink of an eye. Then Derek suddenly moved his hips up to thrust in hard, hitting his sweet spot perfectly and at the same time there was a sharp pain in his shoulder, something trickling down his back and Jackson was gone.

He came with a shout, spurting thick ropes of cum all over his own thighs and Derek jacked him through it, massaging the head to make little electric shocks hit Jackson’s balls every few seconds. He knew he was moaning incoherently, probably babbling too, but his orgasm just kept going, on and on, until it became too much and Jackson grabbed Derek’s wrist to stop him.

Only Derek’s arms kept him from sinking forward in exhausted bliss, his eyes drooping but he felt Derek leaving his body carefully and when exactly had he finished? Shouldn’t Jackson have felt that? Could anyone feel that...?

He’d ask Danny, just to embarrass the hell out of him.

“Did you-” He broke off when Derek laid him down onto the bed, face-first, and gently ruffled his hair.

“Rest now. I’ll be right back.” he said quietly and then Jackson felt the mattress dip next to him before Derek left the room, his feet making quiet padding sounds on the wooden floor.

Jackson squirmed a little until he was comfortable. He was sore in several places, he’d definitely feel it in the morning and he reached back to check his shoulder, quickly finding the hurting spot, a little mark in his skin.

His fingers came back red and wet. Blood. Had Derek bitten him?

He knew he should freak out about that, he really should because he didn’t know if that part of the werewolf lore was true but he was so tired. And he was safe, he wasn’t going to die, so everything else could wait.

He was barely awake when Derek came back to lie down beside him, clean him up and tuck the covers firmly around Jackson’s body and he was asleep before Derek pulled him into his arms.

\---

Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I tell you? I thought this was going to be the last chapter and then suddenly three months were gone and I knew it wasn't the last one at all. Another two months later, I present you this and hope I don't disappoint. I expect two more chapters after this but don't hold me to it.
> 
> Also, some parts of this are directly taken from episodes of the show, just like the fic started out. If you don't like it, don't come cryin' to me, you've been warned.

When Jackson woke up it was quiet. Not only in the room but also inside Jackson himself. There was no more raging fever, no shivers, no nausea. He was aching in several places and he had a crick in his neck but no feelings that weren’t his own. He remembered the weird sensation of Derek’s emotions in his chest, the aching pressure of concern. Whatever it had been, a side-effect of werewolf-induced disease or just a hallucination, it was gone and now replaced by Jackson’s common sense.

He was comfortably tucked in and surrounded by fluffy pillows, a thick blanket soft and warm on his bare skin. The only sound he heard was a dull clanking from downstairs. It reminded him of when he was a little kid and got to sleep in on a Saturday until his mom would come in and wake him, and he’d go downstairs to watch cartoons and eat cereal in the living room. His dad had always joined him sooner or later, a cup of coffee in hand and already in his work suit and they’d watch together for a few minutes until he had to leave for work.

But his parents’ house had never smelled like charred wood and burned fabric.He hadn’t been able to see the sky from his bed, because the wooden panels of the ceiling hadn’t been half-missing. He was basically as far from home as he could get.

He’d had sex with a man. Derek Hale, a guy he’d only met a few weeks ago. Jackson had gone and let Derek fuck him, on the off-chance that the story about his sickness and the incomplete bond wasn’t complete bullcrap and Derek was really trying to help him.

Jackson wanted to bang his head against the wall for his sheer stupidity. He could have wound up dead in a ditch somewhere, or strung up in a tree, or dismembered in Derek’s stupid, shiny-new bathroom.

Maybe Derek was just waiting for him to wake up so he could kill him slowly, painfully, now that he’d fucked him. Rape and then murder. Not exactly unheard of. If wolves could tear a person limb from limb, there was no telling what a werewolf could do, with a human mind and animal strength.

Jackson’s eyes snapped open. What was he _doing_ , lying around in bed when he should be running for his life while he still had legs.

He needed to get out of this house _fast_.

\---

Derek noticed the change in Jackson’s breathing pattern just a few seconds before the teenager woke up. He seemed quiet, calm, and Derek didn’t hear any sounds indicating that Jackson was leaving the bed until several minutes later. Then his heartbeat jumped, his breathing accelerated suddenly and the quiet slide of fabric suggested that he was hurriedly getting dressed in the clothes that Derek had left for him at the end of the bed.

Derek could think of two ways this morning could go. Either Jackson got dressed, used the bathroom and then came downstairs to talk to him or Jackson got dressed and tried to sneak out of the house without Derek noticing so that he could run. Not that he had the slightest chance of even making it out of the woods.

The bedroom window rattled in its hinges; the dull sound of someone testing if it was locked and finding that it was. Jackson had chosen option number two, the one Derek had fully expected him to choose. He hadn’t known the teenager for long but just long enough to lock all the windows and doors except for the front door. Jackson could leave if he so chose but he would have to pass the kitchen where Derek was currently preparing breakfast for him.

Derek didn’t plan on keeping his mate a prisoner but they needed to talk before Jackson left or Derek probably wouldn’t get another chance so soon and there were things Jackson didn’t know. Lies and half-truths that Derek had told him.

Footsteps on the stairs. Careful and slow, testing every single step and pulling back from the creaking ones to skip them.

Jackson was much smarter than Derek would have given him credit for.

“Are you hungry?” Derek asked loudly, not bothering to turn around and see the shocked look on Jackson’s face where he’d frozen mid-step in the hallway, almost halfway to the front door. “You can’t outrun me. You might as well sit down and eat breakfast. Then we can talk.”

Derek calmly plated the bacon, eggs and toast and set the old, creaking kitchen table that probably had more woodworms than actual wood. “I don’t know what you usually eat for breakfast but this is what I have, so you’ll eat it.”

“I-I’m not hungry.” came the quiet reply from behind him. Derek resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Jackson wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them.

“Your stomach’s growling.” Derek turned around to face him and immediately wished he hadn’t. Jackson looked like a scared little puppy that had been dragged away from home to be drowned in the nearest river. “It’s just food. Nothing weird in it, trust me.”

“I don’t trust you.” Jackson slowly took a step backwards, more symbolical than anything else. “Why would I trust you?”

“Because I saved your life. You trusted me last night. What changed?” Getting Jackson to talk about it was the only thing Derek could think of to keep him in the house at the moment.

Jackson turned his head away. “I-... that was...I don’t know.” he murmured, avoiding Derek’s gaze. “Last night was different. I gotta go. My parents are probably worried, they don’t know-” Jackson broke off, like he’d just remembered that reminding Derek that no one knew of Jackson’s whereabouts probably wasn’t the best idea.

The sheer thought of letting his mate leave so soon, just a few hours after their mating, felt like a dagger to Derek’s gut. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t let Jackson out of sight for several weeks, not before their bond was firmly established and could withstand that kind of distance without trouble.

Derek knew there would be pain. He would be hurting and restless, itching for his mate’s presence and it would get worse until they’d be together again. It wasn’t anything to look forward to and Derek didn’t know how much Jackson would be affected.

“Sit.” Derek repeated tensely and backed away from the table. “I’ll be over here, I’ll keep my distance. Just sit down and get some food in you. Your body really needs it, after everything that happened yesterday. You didn’t eat anything since you left school.”

“Since you kidnapped me right from the parking lot, you mean. Where the hell is my car anyway?” Jackson looked up. Derek was relieved to see that some of the life seemed to return to his eyes. “And- and my cellphone and my clothes-”

“Your car is at Scott’s.” Derek interrupted. “Not a scratch on it. Your shirt was torn, I threw it away. Your jeans are in the washer and your shoes are on your feet. I don’t know where your phone is, I haven’t seen it. Can you eat now or are there any more pressing concerns that you desperately want addressed?”

“How about, what the hell is going on?” Jackson snapped back, his voice rising. “You kidnap me from school, you tell me this insane story and somehow McCall is in on it and- you’re a werewolf. And there was another werewolf in the woods. I didn’t imagine that, right? I didn’t make that up!”

“You didn’t.” Derek rushed to reassure him, both hands raised in front of himself. “It happened. I’m not sure how much you remember, you were pretty out of it by the end-”

Judging from how Jackson’s face went completely white at his words, he seemed to remember the important parts.

“I really don’t want to talk about that.”

“You have to.” Coddling Jackson would get him nowhere, he’d noticed that quickly.

“It’s done, right? It’s over.” Jackson rubbed his nape with one hand, feeling for the wounds that had closed and scarred over fully. “I don’t feel sick anymore.”

Derek nodded and gestured towards the cooling food once more. “You’ll be fine as long as you finally _eat something_. I won’t tell you again. ”

Jackson stared at him for a moment, then dropped his eyes. “Fine. But then I’m leaving. Start talking.”

Derek waited until Jackson had shoved the first bite of toast into his mouth, chewing harder than necessary. “Like I said, you’re fine. The bond is established and once it gets stronger, you’ll be able to feel it. Like you did last night.”

Jackson halted, the fork hovering in the air in front of his lips. “‘m pretty sure I imagined that.”

“No. I could feel you too.”

Jackson grimaced. He looked even more uncomfortable with that idea than with the sex he refused to talk about. “I don’t want to know your feelings, especially not 24/7, and you have no business knowing mine. How do we turn it off?”

It was too soon. Derek should have seen it coming, really. It was his own fault, he hadn’t told Jackson the truth and he should have expected him to ask that question. But he’d thought he’d have a little more time to figure out an answer that wouldn’t have Jackson running for the hills. Whichever way he phrased it in his head, it sounded scary, even to himself.

Jackson was a teenage boy with no prior knowledge about werewolves. From what he’d said and how he’d acted, he was either heterosexual or at least didn’t have any experience with boys. At his age, he probably didn’t even know what a committed relationship entailed yet and that wasn’t factoring in how he was forced into this relationship by the threat of dying.

“Hey! I said, how do we turn it off?” Jackson repeated, putting down the fork on the rim of the half-empty plate.

If he told Jackson that they were stuck like this forever, he’d panic and run. If he told him that there was a way to turn it off, he’d be lying even more. But if he pretended that it’d go away on its own, he’d just be buying some time and he’d be in even bigger trouble when it finally blew up in his face.

“Hale! Are you listening?”

But he had to tell him something. Jackson wasn’t as easy to silence as Scott. He was like a piranha, once he got a bite of something, he kept returning to it until there was nothing left and he was certain he’d got it all and he was the most dangerous fish in the sea.

There was no way out. Werewolves mated for life, they didn’t need a way out.

“I don’t know yet. It’s complicated.” Derek finally heard himself say, his chest tightening at the words. “It’s my first bond too. I’ll tell you when I find out, okay?”

Jackson frowned for a moment, displeased with his answer but finally picked up the fork and continued eating the last of his scrambled eggs. Derek let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

Coward. Fucking coward.

“There, finished.” Jackson dropped the fork the second the final piece of bacon disappeared into his mouth and stood up. “Just-- point me in the right direction, I can find the way out of the woods myself.”

_Too soon._

Derek jerked forward purely out of instinct and pushed Jackson back down onto the chair. “We’re not done. There’s more you need to know.”

Jackson flinched under his hand and Derek felt the little tremor of fear that went through him. It was just so wrong. His mate should be anything but afraid of him.

“The bond is still new, so it needs some time. We shouldn’t be too far apart right now. You can go home because we can’t risk your parents calling the cops on me but I’ll have to come see you. A lot.” he explained slowly, careful not to give anything away. The wrong word could blow this entire thing up. 

“What if we don’t? See each other?” Jackson asked, his voice shaking badly..

“I don’t know. Maybe the bond won’t form properly, or it would stay weak, maybe it could break. You could get sick again. I could get sick. We can’t risk that.”

“But isn’t that what we want? To break the bond? I thought you said we only had to complete the claim because it was unfinished.” Jackson’s jaw tensed.

Another lie. Derek wished it was the last one.

“Yes, but we don’t want it to break on its own.”

Jackson chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes shining with insecurity, then he finally nodded and Derek’s fingers relaxed from the grip he’d had on his shoulder.

“Okay. I’ll be home tonight. Don’t let my parents see you, they ask too many questions about people they don’t know and I can’t exactly tell them anything.” Jackson twisted his back uncomfortable and slid off the chair and out of reach. “Don’t do that, don’t just...”

His mate rejected his touch. Of course he did. On one hand, Derek wasn’t surprised in the slightest. But on the other, the deep sting in his chest almost took his breath away.

As Derek watched Jackson disappear into the woods, walking in the direction Derek had pointed him, he knew that they’d have an incredibly long way to go before they could even think to be anything but wary and hostile with each other.

He just prayed that they’d ever get there.

\---

Once Jackson had left the house, and stepped foot on earthy ground, he started running and didn’t slow down until he’d reached the row of houses at the edge of the woods and was among people.

He should tell someone. Anyone. His parents would never believe him. Neither would Lydia. She was firmly in denial about what had gone down at the video store and the mountain lion in the school parking lot had only confirmed it.

Danny would believe him, eventually. They used to tell each other everything, no judgement. But he hadn’t even told Danny about the video store thing, hadn’t told him about the werewolf he’d seen and when Danny had asked about the scratches on his neck, Jackson had made something up and he didn’t even remember what it was.

Scott and Stiles knew but he’d be damned if he talked to them.

He felt like this massive secret had been put on his shoulders and he’d break under the weight if he didn’t tell someone.

Jackson heard his mom’s voice from inside the house before he opened the front door and from the sound of it, she was on the phone with the sheriff. Like he needed this to get any more complicated than it already was.

He couldn’t tell her anything, he decided. If he did, there was no going around her calling the police on Derek’s ass.

After what had happened last night and this morning, Derek at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. It was all Jackson would give him, for now.

\---

Asking Peter for advice had been a spur-of-the-moment decision and Derek couldn’t remember what he’d thought he’d achieve. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up in the first place. Peter hadn’t been responsive since the fire six years ago, he wouldn’t start talking now.

He wished he had someone else to ask. His parents. Laura. Anyone who knew anything about werewolves and how to handle mating.

He used to think he knew a lot about his kind, had always listened well and read a lot of lore and experienced much in his life so far but he felt just incredibly unprepared for this.

The nurse had told him that Peter would respond if he gave him the time. Maybe Jackson needed time too. Maybe he’d come around.

Derek gritted his teeth as he walked back to his car. If only things could be that easy for once. He just couldn’t catch a break.

Derek frowned when he saw the white piece of paper sticking out from under his windshield wiper. A ticket? He tore it out from under the wiper, fully intending to just rip it apart and throw it away. He was parking in the _hospital parking lot_ for god’s sake-

It wasn’t a parking ticket.

There was someone else to talk to after all.

\---

“Come on, Jackson! Talk to me. Your mom was freaking out because you didn’t come home and didn’t call her. She was crying; I didn’t know what to tell her! Where were you?”

Trust Danny to make him feel bad about being kidnapped.

“I stayed over at Lydia’s, okay? I forgot to call and then I fell asleep. No big deal.”

“I called Lydia, you weren’t there. You can lie to your mom if you want but not to me. Jacks!”

Jackson rubbed his eyes and thought for a moment. Maybe he could tell Danny at least part of what happened. The part where Derek kidnapped him and took him to Scott’s because he wasn’t feeling well and why his phone was gone.

“Okay, look-” he started but was interrupted by a ‘beep’ from his phone. He quickly checked the display. “Sorry, Lydia is on the other line. Hang on.” He needed some time to think of answers to Danny’s questions.

“Jackson, wait-”

He quickly pressed the ‘hold call’ button and switched to the other line.

“Lydia? What’s up?”

Oh, right. That damn double date.

Staying with Derek sounded really good all of a sudden.

\---

“Lydia says we’re coming to get you.” Jackson repeated obediently while he already turned into the street where the Argents lived.

He could almost hear Allison rolling her eyes over the phone line. “Please don’t? I’m sure he’s on his way, he’s only.... 26 minutes late.” Her voice dropped to a resigned sigh at the end. He turned another corner and she came into sight, standing in the driveway and fidgeting on her feet.

“-slippery slope, Allison! Slippery slope.” Lydia interjected.

Just typical. McCall went on and on about how much he liked Allison and then he didn’t even show up to their date. Granted, a damn double date but it still counted. He could have had the decency to call and let them know he was late or not coming at all so they didn’t have to bother.

“We’re picking you up.” Jackson repeated firmly and slowly brought the car to a halt.

“No.”

“Too late.”

She turned around and approached the car, giving him that look that he hated. Lydia had perfected that look and he had to endure it several times a day, even when it wasn’t his fault at all.

“Lydia gets what Lydia wants.” He explained with a shrug of his shoulders. “Come on, get in. We can stop by his place and see where he’s at-”

A chime of her cellphone interrupted them and she frowned when she looked at the display.

“Is that him?” Lydia leaned over him to talk out of the window and Jackson tried not to flinch at how he was pressed back in the seat. “With the best explanation ever of why he’s half a freaking hour late?”

Allison slowly shook her head, her lips opening in surprise. “Not exactly.” 

\---

Somehow Scott McCall must have turned from ‘loser who’ll never get first line’ to ‘small-time criminal who breaks into the school and dedicates his life to pulling Jackson in on his weirdness’ and Jackson had no idea when exactly that had happened.

“You don’t need me to state the obvious, right?” he asked, surveying the open front doors and the bolt cutter hanging from one of the handles.

“That it looks like they broke into the school? No, pretty obvious.” Allison murmured.

It looked like the worst horror film set ever. Whatever was going on in there just couldn’t be about sunshine and romance and Jackson had a really weird feeling in his stomach. Something was happening, something epically bad.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He should, even if she said no. There was no telling what was going on inside that building. He knew there were supposed to be night guards around but from the state of the door, it didn’t look like they were taking their jobs too seriously.

“It’s okay.” She shrugged slightly.

“Hey, Allison-” he started, about to tell her to send McCall to hell and just come to the mall with them instead of looking for her dorky boyfriend at the completely abandoned and dark school but he stopped himself when she smiled.

“You have this look like you’re about to say ‘be careful’.” she guessed and she looked so sweet about it that he didn’t have the heart to finish his sentence. And he really didn’t want her to go in there, that much was true.

“I am.” he smiled back and handed her the flash light but she just kept looking at him in disbelief. “What?”

“That concerned look on you, I’ve never seen it before.” She said it like she’d known him their entire lives when it had only been a few weeks and in that short moment, he was about to tell her everything.

Her of all people, when he was so much closer to Danny and Lydia, when every guy on the Lacrosse team should know him better than she did. He’d tell her how much shit had hit the fan lately and why a text from McCall, telling her to break into the school with him couldn’t be good.

She’d be confused. She’d ask questions that he wouldn’t know how to answer. She probably wouldn’t smile at him again like she did now but it would be worth it because she wouldn’t enter the building and they’d drive away to happier, safer places and nothing dangerous would happen to one of the nicest girls he’d ever met.

“Well, I am concerned.” he said instead and it felt like a punch to his gut.

Another smile, bright as fire. “It’s a good look on you. Don’t worry! I’ll be right back.”

A nervous laugh spilled from his lips as he watched her go but it got stuck in his throat when he met Lydia’s eyes through the windshield.

\---

It was a scratch. Three deep marks in the metal of Stiles’ fugly jeep and when he traced them with his fingers, they almost fit his hand but human fingernails could never leave marks like that.

“Can we get Allison and leave now?” Lydia asked, her voice shriller than usual but Jackson barely heard her.

There were exactly two creatures he knew that had the claws to leave marks like that. Jackson couldn’t shake the feeling that Derek was around somewhere but Derek would probably just open the hood of the car instead of _bending it back by hand_. That left the other one. The monstrous wolf.

“What are you doing? Are you getting Allison?”

He’d already started to walk towards the school doors and at Lydia’s question he only walked faster.

Jackson had never realized how creepy the school was when empty. It wasn’t even the darkness that bothered him most. It was the silence and how every sound that he heard could be the big wolf tearing Allison into pieces-

“Wait, I’m going to the bathroom.”

Jackson almost jumped out of his skin.

“No, you’re not!”

Lydia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why not? There’s one right here.” Jackson kept walking and pushed the heavy fire door open with more force than necessary.

“You gotta be kidding me. You have to use the bathroom now?”

They were in what had to be the creepiest building in a 50 mile radius, they were probably in danger because there was a monster running around in the very same building, they hadn’t found Allison or Scott or even a night guard but she was as calm as always and peeing was the biggest concern on her mind. Jackson was deeply worried about her intelligence.

“Yes, now!” she insisted. “Do you have a problem with me following a basic biological function?”

Maybe because she tended to _sound_ intelligent. That and her boobs had probably blinded him for years. Had she always been this annoying? Had he always been this whipped?

“You know, I’m starting to have a problem with all of your functions.”

He barely choked off a frustrated groan when she turned right around and walked into the girls’ bathroom, her head as high as always when she’d just won an argument.

The feeling of being watched hit him a split second before he turned around and saw it. Movement in the shadows. A dark figure standing at the end of the hallway, half illuminated by the moonlight coming on through a window. Upright and on two legs but it didn’t look human at all.

“McCall?” he called, even though every fiber of him was screaming at him to run. He could be wrong. It could be Scott or maybe Derek and he’d make a complete ass of himself if he hightailed out.

“Scott!”

Maybe light and shadow were playing tricks on him. Maybe-

The figure dropped down on four legs, its back deeply hunched over, and then moved forward slowly, crossing the hallway and disappearing into the shadows with deadly grace.

All the color drained from Jackson’s face.

\---

Derek woke up with the tangy taste of blood in his mouth and a deep ache in his back. He groaned quietly and tried to sit up, stretching his protesting muscles. Grass crinkled under his fingers and he smelled chalk and sharp cleaning products and underneath that the light waft of fear.

The school. He’d met Stiles and Scott at the school and he was about to rip their heads off for calling the alpha and then-

He jumped to his feet, all pain forgotten and started towards the front doors when something caught his attention.

Before he’d fallen unconscious, there had been two cars in the parking lot. His own and Stiles’ jeep. They were both still there - the jeep looked a little more battered than Derek remembered but it had already been a piece of crap so he could be wrong - but a third car had joined the other two.

He knew that Porsche. He’d driven that Porsche.

“Shit.”

\---

“Who?” Allison demanded to know, her voice high with panic. “Who is it?”

Stiles turned away, unwilling to provide an answer if he had one and Scott hesitated, his eyes wide.

“It’s... it’s Derek. Derek Hale.”

“Wait, Derek killed the janitor?” Jackson repeated incredulously.

Bullshit.

He’d seen the thing that had attacked them just moments ago. The same thing as in the video store and in the woods and he’d seen Derek fight it. The alpha, he’d called it.

“No, Derek killed them!” Scott insisted with his back to them. He wasn’t a very good liar.

“A-all of them?” Allison asked shakily.

“Yes, starting with his own sister.”

No.

“And the bus driver?”

Wrong. It couldn’t be. Not Derek.

“And the guy in the video store, it’s been Derek the whole time! He’s in here with us.”

Wrong again. So wrong.

Jackson knew that as certain as he knew his own date of birth. He could feel it in his chest, deep down and strong as a rock.

As much as Jackson doubted Derek’s intentions, as unsure as he was about the whole werewolf bond thing, Derek wasn’t a murderer. The guy had taken care of him, he’d saved him from a murderous werewolf, cured whatever weird disease had been killing him, he’d made freaking breakfast and then he’d let Jackson go home, just like that, without so much as a scratch when Jackson had basically expected to be maimed and killed in ten seconds flat. .

They were far from trusting each other, as far as two people could be, but Jackson had to give the guy some credit.

He wasn’t a killer and Scott should know that too. Jackson had been under the impression that Derek, Scott and Stiles were friends or had known each other for a while, at least. They had some sort of connection. He’d previously written it off as working together on some really shady stuff but that wasn’t it.

“...-he’ll kill us too.” he caught the end of Scott’s sentence and Jackson barely refrained from punching him in the face.

\---

“There’s gotta be something else.”

Yeah, like finding Derek and having him fight the Alpha while they ran for their lives. A perfectly good plan if he could have told the others that without having to explain that he was mated to the werewolf in question.

“There is.” Lydia suddenly jumped in and when Jackson followed her gaze, he saw it. They were in the chem lab. With the glass cases full of dangerous chemicals that students weren’t allowed to handle unsupervised because they could literally make their limbs fall off.

“In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail.” she said. Okay, maybe she was smart after all. At least when she didn’t have to pee.

“What? I read it somewhere.”

“We don’t have a key for that either.” Stiles said.

He was surrounded by idiots. Lydia would rather be killed than try to control her bladder, Allison was completely incapable of doing anything while she was mad at her boyfriend, Scott was a moron by default and Stiles was perfectly able to break into the school but as useless as a toddler when it came down to it.

Jackson briefly mourned the loss of his favorite leather jacket before he gritted his teeth and smashed his elbow into the glass case.

\---

Jackson watched in fascination as she expertly mixed several chemicals, carefully moving the glass vial in a circular motion. It looked like she had done this before, not like she’d just read about it somewhere.

“Jackson, hand me the sulfuric acid.” Lydia requested, her eyes firmly on the chemical cocktail in front of her.

He knew which bottle was the right one, of course he did. They’d worked with sulfuric acid in class just last week and it was clearly marked.

But Scott thought that Derek was the one hunting them and Derek was still in the school somewhere. Werewolf or not, he wouldn’t survive a molotov cocktail thrown at him.

If he gave Lydia the right bottle, Derek might die in a blaze, just like his family had.

It was a no-brainer.

\---

“Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right? It has to be sulfuric acid, it won’t ignite if it’s not.”

No, he’d handed her what wouldn’t harm Derek in the slightest. It’d tickle, maybe. Or give him a shallow cut from the broken glass.

He swallowed against the guilt churning his stomach, hoping that he hadn’t just signed McCall’s death warrant. The guy was an idiot and a loser who didn’t know how to appreciate what he had but Jackson didn’t want him to die. No one deserved to die at the hands of that beast. And whatever deal Scott had going on for him at the moment, it made him the only one brave enough to face the wolf. At least he was trying, even if he completely failed at doing anything useful.

“I gave you exactly what you asked for tonight.” Jackson replied testily, ready to bite Lydia’s head off if she didn’t let it go.

She didn’t have to.

An incredible howl rattled through the building, making the walls creak and the floor tremble beneath their feet and an even more powerful roar followed, answering the first one. He heard glass break somewhere and a shock of pain exploded in Jackson’s neck, forcing him to his knees, screaming in agony. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt before. He could feel his scars break open at once, the skin pulling away to reveal the deep gashes they’d been before he’d slept with Derek.

The pain faded as fast as it had come and Jackson found himself being pulled to his feet by two sets of arms, panting like he’d just run a marathon.

“No, I’m fine-”

His head was spinning and his entire body was hurting but it wasn’t his own pain. It felt like pure terror pulling at his insides, worming its way through his chest and abdomen and it burned.

Like fire.

_No. Fuck, no._

That damn cocktail must have ignited after all.

And McCall had thrown it at Derek. 

 

\--- To be continued ---

Thanks for reading, leave me a comment if you like!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time. Sorry about that. But at least I present to you a 7k chapter that I've worked on for a long time and that I really like. 
> 
> Also, the title change has been a long time coming. As I started this fic, I thought I'd focus more on the consent issue of accidental bonding than I ended up doing.
> 
> WARNING for discussion about unprotected sex and the possible consequences thereof.

The next few days passed in a confusing blur, with an annoying whirlwind of people questioning Jackson, his parents panicking, Danny freaking out - in his own calm and composed way - and breaking and entering charges being raised and dropped, probably because the sheriff pulled some strings for his failure of a son.

Jackson didn’t even remember half the things he was questioned about; not only because he didn’t have answers to most of them but also because he was itching to find out what happened, to Derek, to McCall, to the monstrous wolf.

_It has to be sulfuric acid. It won’t ignite if it’s not._

Derek had been supposed to meet him at Jackson’s house, days ago, before that horrible night at the school and if Jackson hadn’t forgotten all about the double date with Lydia and Allison, they would have. He wondered if Derek had been there and waited for him until he’d realised that Jackson wouldn’t show. If Derek had gone to the school to look for him.

That didn’t make him responsible for Derek’s death, of course not. He’d had no way to know what would happen or that Derek would be involved at all.

_It won’t ignite if it’s not._

There was no mention anywhere that the police had found another body aside from the janitor’s. That they’d found any sign of a fight.

Jackson had tried to get a hold of McCall - just to ask what he’d seen, who he’d fought, what happened to the Molotov cocktail and why hadn’t he returned to the chemistry lab when he said he would - but Stiles hadn’t let him out of his sight before the Sheriff had taken both of them home and Jackson’s mom was so freaked out by the entire thing that she refused to let him out of the house at all for the first two days, then for anything other than school.

The fact that all of this had happened at that exact school somehow didn’t matter to her but Jackson could have just as well stayed home for good. He couldn’t concentrate on any of the classes and he couldn’t remember doing a single one of his homework tasks that week.

He tried to tell himself to just stop thinking about it, stop wondering. If Derek were still alive, he’d show sooner rather than later. He’d make sure Jackson knew he was okay, whether Jackson cared or not. The guy was... intense.

Like the strange sensations he’d felt, feelings that weren’t his own. No emotion had been the same, a perfect diversity, but all of them had been really intense.

_It has to be sulfuric acid._

It was all gone now. It was quiet in his head, eerily calm in his chest. He’d only felt Derek for a little while, barely longer than a few hours but he’d gotten so _used to it._ He’d barely slept since it was gone and exhaustion was beginning to tear on him. He’d soaked Derek’s feelings up like a sponge, like he’d been craving this all his life and never knew.

\- - -

“Jackson? What’s up? I almost thought you’d never call me again. Or pick up your phone.” Danny sounded cheerful, the words muffled by whatever he was chewing and Jackson could hear the gun shot sounds of a video game in the background.

“Yeah, I’ve... been busy. And grounded, after what happened at the school. Anyway, I thought you might wanna hang out tonight but it sounds like you’re busy being a nerd. On a Friday evening.” Jackson smirked, flopping down on his bed. Calling Danny had been a good idea. Just what he needed. A distraction. Some time away from all of this. From wondering.

“Nah, I have time. I can postpone breaking the nerd record for a few hours. You want to come over? I think we’re having pizza for dinner, I’ll tell mom to order some more- Shit!” There was the sound of a fake explosion, then a typical ‘game over’ jingle, signifying that Danny’s game character had just been killed in battle. Probably blown apart by plasma grenades or something. “Thanks for distracting me, ass. I was almost through that level.”

Jackson made an exaggerated sigh. “We really need to find you a boyfriend. Before you drown in your own nerdiness. What happened to that guy you met for coffee?”

“How would we do that?” The grin was audible in Danny’s voice. “Tom? I haven’t called him back yet. You’re so high maintenance, I don’t have time for anyone else.”

“Hey!” Jackson laughed. “That’s so not true. You spend far more time at your computer than with me.”

“Lately, yeah. And whose fault is that? Whatever, are you coming over?”

 

They both ate as much pizza as could possibly fit and then went to Danny’s room for a couple of beers that he’d sneaked from the fridge in the basement while his parents cleaned up in the kitchen.

“So, why did you really call me?” Danny suddenly asked when Jackson was halfway through his second beer and Danny himself was nursing his third. Or his fourth? Jackson hadn’t really paid attention.

“Huh?” He looked up in surprise. “What do you mean, why? To hang out.”

Danny rolled his eyes and took another sip of his beer, thinking about his response for a moment.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” When he finally spoke, he sounded tired, worried, and Jackson’s resolve wavered for a moment. Would it really be so bad, telling Danny? Worst case scenario, Danny would believe everything he said and completely freak out about the existence of werewolves. Best case scenario, Danny wouldn’t believe him and think Jackson was joking and effectively lying to him because he didn’t want to tell. He’d be hurt for a while and then he’d get over it.

Jackson was pretty sure that freaking out wasn’t even in Danny’s nature. But he’d know and he’d ask questions and he’d... _judge_ , maybe, and Jackson knew he couldn’t possibly handle any of it.

“It’s nothing,” he replied quietly, shrugging, lowering his gaze to the bottle in his hands.

“Bullshit,” came Danny’s equally quiet reply, “There’s something you’re not telling me. Come on, Jackson, it’s me! What could possibly be so bad that you can’t even tell _me_?”

Agreeing to have sex with and forever bond yourself to a werewolf to save your life. Jackson closed his eyes in mortification. “It’s... bad, okay? Really bad. I’m not even sure you’ll believe me.”

Danny leaned forward to put the bottle on his desk and rose from where he sat in his desk chair. He nudged Jackson a little until he scooted over and made room for him on the bed. Concern was so blatantly written all over his face that Jackson longed to just push him away, off the bed, end the moment before it became even worse, before he blurted out the entire story and set off a disaster.

”Why wouldn’t I believe you? I can’t let this go, Jacks. You know I can’t. How about.. I just ask some questions and you try to answer what you can, okay?” Danny finally suggested, carefully, gently.

Jackson sighed. Maybe he should fake a seizure.

Which would only delay the inevitable. Danny was nothing if not persistent. Jackson nodded jerkily. “Okay. Fire away.”

“So, something happened. At the school and before that, that much I know. You disappeared for a day and you’re acting strange all the time. Is this about something you did or something someone else did?”

“Both.”

“Was it illegal?”

“Probably. In some states.”

“Did someone get hurt?” When didn’t someone get hurt lately? It seemed like this was all the people in this town did in their free time. Do weird shit and get hurt.

Derek had been hurt, probably. But Jackson hadn’t hurt him so that wasn’t what Danny was asking.

“Sort of.” Jackson frowned. Derek hadn’t actually hurt him either. Not really. There were the marks on his neck but Derek claimed that he hadn’t scratched him on purpose and Jackson was still a little undecided on whether to believe him on that one. He’d been sick, yes, but that wasn’t what Danny meant with his question either. And then there was _getting fucked_ , which had hurt like a bitch- “But not... like you think. And it wasn’t really anyone’s fault.”

Danny’s eyes lit up. “So there was an accident? Is that it? Did you cause an accident and someone got hurt?”

Jackson shook his head again. “No. Not really. Like I said, not anyone’s fault.” God, could this get any more awkward? He was sort of lying but telling the truth while not saying anything at all and he could see that Danny didn’t believe a thing he said and had no idea _what_ he was saying at the same time.

Danny sighed and rubbed his face warily. “Come on, Jacks. Give me something here. Is this just something totally ordinary, like something about a girl and you cheated on Lydia, or are we talking about some kind of _crime_?”

Jackson swallowed against the sickening lump in his throat. “The first one. But... n-not a _girl._ ,” he croaked.

Danny frowned, then suddenly went very still. He stared at Jackson with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he managed to speak.

“A guy...?”

Jackson couldn’t get his voice to work anymore but his silence was answer enough.

“Don’t kill me if I’m wrong but...is that what you’re saying here? You hooked up with a guy?”

Oh god, no. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t look Danny in the eye and pretend that this was normal, that he was a confused, bi-curious teenager who experimented and then didn’ t know how to tell his gay-and-out best friend. That wasn’t even good enough of a plot for a bad movie. 

“I don’t-” He took a deep breath against the nauseous feeling in his stomach but it didn’t help. “Danny, I-”

_I’m sorry, Danny. I want to tell you everything so you can work some of your magic and make all of this okay._

He couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Hey.” Danny nudged their shoulders together gently. “It’s okay. I understand, you don’t- don’t have to say anything else. Talk to me when you’re ready. Just- be safe, whatever you do.”

“Safe?” Jackson raised his eyebrows.

“Safe.” Danny’s eyes widened slightly. “A condom, Jacks. You used one, right?”

No. Not even close. Condoms hadn’t even crossed Jackson’s mind. He had been busy not dying and while the thought of it made his stomach queasy, he was pretty sure _not_ using a condom had pretty much been the point of it all.

Unless the special healing powers in werewolf sperm could penetrate latex. Jackson wouldn’t rule it out.

“Jackson!” Danny’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Tell me you used a condom or I’m dragging you to the clinic myself!”

“What makes you think I’d-” Jackson stammered, “I didn’t say we did _that_.”

“The badly concealed panic in your eyes says you did. Man, if you do any more than handjobs, then you need to wrap it up!” Danny lightly pushed at his shoulder. “You’re getting yourself tested, buddy. I’ll go with you if you want.”

Jackson sighed, resisting the urge to rub his eyes to fight the slowly building headache. “Fine. I’ll get tested.”

Danny nodded. “Good. You need to do it at least three months from the day you had unprotected sex or it won’t show anything.”

“I know that.” His head was pounding now. He took another swig of his beer, against better judgement.

“So, when did you-?”

“A few days ago. When I didn’t go home after school and mom called you.”

“Okay.” Danny grabbed his phone from the desk and started typing. A quick glance to the display told Jackson that he was putting a fucking notification for the HIV-test in his phone. Fucking hell.

“Hey.” Danny nudged him again and Jackson barely restrained himself from shoving him off the bed in return.

“What now?”

“How was it?”

“How was _what_?”

“Sex. With a guy. Did you top or-”

“Oh my god. I’m not talking about this.”

“Come on!” Danny threw his hands up and spilled his half-empty beer all over the floor. And the bed. And Jackson’s pants.

Time to cut him off. Jackson calmly reached over and took the bottle from Danny’s hands.

“You cannot lose your virginity and not tell me all about it!”

“I lost my virginity a year ago and I told you all about it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No.”

“Yes, you do.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Did it hurt? It hurt, didn’t it?”

“W-Who said I bottomed?”

“Your face did. Just now.”

“Screw you.”

“Tell me. I’m your best friend.”

“And are we fourteen year old _girls_?”

“Last I checked, no, but I’m not so sure about you. Now tell me.”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”

“The part where ‘no’ is even an option. I’m your best friend. You had sex with a man and you _bottomed._ You owe me for putting up with your shit lately. Now tell me.”

“Really? You’re gonna play that card?” Jackson took a deep, deep breath. He hated drunk and curious Danny with the fire of a thousand suns. Make that a million suns.

“Yes. Tell me _something_.”

“Sometimes? I hate you,” Jackson murmured and helped himself to another long sip of liquid courage. “It hurt. It was awkward. He didn’t respect me in the morning. I’m not doing it again. That good enough?”

Danny grimaced in sympathy. “Good enough.”

“Finally,” Jackson murmured, his shoulders slumping in relief.

“But Jacks-” Danny looked up.

“ _What_?” Jackson’s jaw tensed sharply.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop bothering you. Just... a lot of people try stuff, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Think about it and decide what you want and _use a damn condom next time_ -”

“There won’t be a next time. Can we talk about something else now, please?” Jackson pleaded, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I get it. It’s over anyway, I’m not gonna see that guy again. It was... it was nothing.”

Danny’s jaw tensed, like he really wasn’t done talking yet, but he nodded and reached for one of the unopened bottles on the floor. “Want another beer?”

 

Jackson’s mind was blissfully hazy when he finally dropped down on the futon on the floor next to Danny’s bed, closing his eyes because the ceiling was blurry anyway and the moon shone so brightly through the window that it hurt his eyes.

Oh. The moon was almost full. He should probably remember the moon phases now. Since he was gay-werewolf-married. Or something.

So what if Danny thought he was into guys now? Jackson wouldn’t see Derek again, ever, he was probably dead, and eventually Danny would notice that there weren’t any other men Jackson was interested in and they’d chalk it up to a weird experiment, never to be mentioned again.

And then, finally, Jackson would forget all about it.

Forget Derek.

\- - -

Derek could be injured.

Badly burnt beyond recognition.

He could be dying.

He could be long dead, only waiting for someone to find his charred, blackened body.

Jackson wasn’t keen on that, seriously, finding Derek’s rotting corpse somewhere, but he just had to know before he lost his mind wondering.

If only he could get an answer out of McCall on whether that damn cocktail had ignited or not.

Jackson wasn’t a waiting kind of guy. He just didn’t wait for things to happen, good or bad, and he most certainly didn’t wait for people to do something for him.

He just had to know.

“Hey, Jackson, can you help me pick out a new helmet after school?” Danny asked as the bell rang and ended their chemistry class. Jackson barely heard him over the sound of his own heart beating. “I think I need your advice.”

“I’m busy,” Jackson murmured, shoving his books into his backpack. Stupidly huge geography book, never fit anywhere. He should put it in his locker before he left so he didn’t have to carry it around but then he’d get to Derek’s house even later... “Sorry, ask- um. Stilinski.”

“Stilinski? Are you serious?”

“McCall then. Whatever.”

“McCall?” Danny stared after Jackson like he’d suddenly grown a second head as he practically ran out the door. “Scott wasn’t even in class-”

\- - -

Derek’s nose twitched as he suddenly caught a trace of his mate’s scent, raw and strong and so _soothing_ , like the first touch of salve on burning skin.

Derek was used to smelling people’s fear, it was all around them before there were so many things people were afraid of, from heights to spiders, and Derek often enough intimidated people by accident to be able to distinguish between people by their fear alone.

And Jackson, right now, he would be able to smell for _miles_.

Fuck.

“Ew, what _is_ that?”

“Go home,” Derek heard himself say, turning his head towards Scott belatedly. “We’re done for today. “

“What?” Scott looked up from where he was sitting on the floor, just turning back to human form. His surprise took care of the last bit of wolf visible, made the claws shrink down to blunt fingernails. Their last exercise had been intense and Scott already had trouble shifting back so close to the full moon anyway. “But I thought we-”

“Jackson’s here. Don’t let him see you,” Derek interrupted. “Use the back door.”

“Jackson?” Scott looked up and sniffed the air once, twice. “He’s scared. That’s fear, right? That tangy, sharp smell-”

“Yes,” Derek growled. “That’s fear. Now stop _sniffing_ him and go.”

“I wasn’t sniffing, I was just-.. Why is he scared anyway?” Scott frowned slightly and Derek once again wished Scott was really as stupid as he came across most of the time. Then he wouldn’t figure out that- “Wait. You’ve talked to him since the night at the school, right? He knows you’re okay?” Derek didn’t give an answer but Scott didn’t wait for one anyway. “Dude, aren’t you supposed to let your mate know if you’re still alive or not? Correct me if I’m wrong but-”

“You’re wrong,” Derek snarled, at the end of his patience. “And it’s none of your business. Now _go_.”

“Dude, the full moon is tonight! Where am I supposed to go?” A dark growl formed in Scott’s throat. “I almost sent Danny to the emergency room during practice, how do I not kill anyone tonight?”

“Go somewhere. Chain yourself up as best as you can. You’re not going to learn control until tonight anyway and I can’t contain you here.”

“But-”

“Hello?” Jackson’s steps on the front porch, tentative and slow. Derek spun around and grabbed Scott by the neck, shoving him towards the kitchen and the back door.

“Ow- okay, fuck, I’m leaving-”

Scott finally moved and slunk out the back door, just as Jackson pushed the front door open, carefully setting one foot in front of the other until he reached the middle of the hallway.

“Derek?”

“Here,” Derek said quietly but Jackson startled anyway, whirling around to face him. His eyes burned into Derek’s, full of hurt and fear and … something else. Tears?

Derek discreetly sniffed the air again but couldn’t make out any salt. Maybe just a trick of the light then.

“You’re not hurt.”

Derek should have thought of that. Should have at least left his mate a damn note, _I’m okay, don’t worry_ , why the hell didn’t he?

“No.”

“I thought I’d find you burnt to a crisp, asshole.”

So much pain in his voice. So much. More than his mate should ever feel. Derek’s throat ached with need.

“I was-... going to come for you. There were things I had to take care of first,” Derek tried to explain, knowing that it would be no good. Not enough trust between them yet. Maybe not trust at all.

“Yeah, right. Things, huh? What things?” Jackson was challenging him. Daring him to admit that there were more important things than Jackson, that he’d delayed dealing with him on purpose. Waiting for it, and despite the tremble in the human’s voice, Derek was a little impressed. A little proud. Jackson knew about him being a werewolf, was terrified out of his mind because of it, but he still stood his ground and demanded an explanation.

Laura used to remind him that _true courage lies in facing danger when you’re afraid._ Of course, she had said that to make Derek do whatever craziness she had planned, something that would get both of them in trouble, but she’d been right back then. She would have liked Jackson, Derek thought.

Whatever Jackson had said before, whatever Jackson had allowed him to do, asked of him-... there wasn’t a lick of trust between them. Maybe there had been, for a few minutes. However, nothing Derek could build on. How was he supposed to earn someone’s trust who was so afraid of him, whom he had hurt and lied to-

Oh. Maybe.

“Training Scott. He doesn’t have any control over the wolf yet. He could easily kill someone during the full moon tonight,” Derek explained slowly, not letting his gaze leave Jackson’s eyes.

“So, you’ve been training Scott full-time? Twenty-four seven? You didn’t have _a minute_ to call me and let me know that you’re alive? Man, you must have been seriously busy.”

Jackson latched onto his words like a pitbull, grasping for a reason to be angry at him, but the mockery in his words was fake, as fake as all of that hard shell Jackson had built around him to protect himself from harm.

“No, I could have found the time. I just... don’t actually have your number,“ Derek murmured, fully aware of how pathetic that sounded. Scott had Jackson’s number, Stiles probably had it, hell, Derek could have at least tried the phone book to call the Whittemore’s landline. “And didn’t you say you lost your-”

“I don’t even remember why I came here,” Jackson interrupted him, his voice quiet but as harsh as a gunshot. He shrugged, his gaze briefly dropping to the floor before he turned around and stalked toward the front door. “Waste of time.”

“Jackson,” Derek tried, making two long strides to catch up. When his hand dropped down on Jackson’s shoulder, he felt the large muscle flinch heavily but if there was ever a moment to persist, to hold on, it was now. “Just hear me out. I’ll explain everything. Give me a chance.”

“You didn’t deserve the first chance I gave you, why would I give you another? Let go.”

“If I let you go now, I’ll lose you.”

Everything froze, including him, Jackson, _time_. Neither of them dared to move, not knowing what the motion would turn out to be. A hit, a bite, a kiss. If pressed for it, Derek couldn’t have told one more possible than the other. He knew what he wanted, he knew what Jackson wanted but he also knew that Jackson had to feel the same longing inside of him, the same desire to tend to his mate, to crawl into his arms and be relieved that he was alive. He had to.

Their bond was as strong as before, it hadn’t suffered a bit which would have been odd if Derek hadn’t known that Jackson was such an expert at pretending he didn’t care.

A minute passed, two, Derek’s hand remaining calmly on Jackson’s shoulder and neither of them speaking until Jackson _shuddered_ and finally shrugged him off, breaking the spell and choosing door number four. Running away.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You never had me. You never will. I’m not- I’m not your _property,_ you sick fuck.”

The thought alone, considering his mate as property, made Derek’s hands clench into tight fists, driving his claws into his skin. Just for a few minutes, not nearly long enough, Jackson had been his. Not his property but his mate - a friend, a brother, a lover and a partner. In those short, perfect moments after the fight with the alpha in the woods, when Jackson had said that he believed Derek, that he trusted him, when he had asked for help.

“Jackson, wait, that’s not what I meant-” Derek reached out again, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself, Hale!”

Derek nodded and took a careful step back. “Fine, I won’t touch you. Just listen for a minute-”

“Yeah, you know what, I’m done listening.” Jackson was looking at him like Derek was a particularly unpleasant door-to-door salesman but there was an underlying notion of something sad and disappointed and so clearly _not surprised_ that it made Derek’s fingers tingle with the need to comfort and protect.

“You’re not leaving until you do.”

The way Jackson’s face just closed off entirely made clear how that had been the wrong thing to say. The sickening stench of terror spread around them, thick in the air and settling into every pore of his body until Derek was sure he’d never be able to wash it off again. It was rubbing him entirely the wrong way, making him want to lash out at something, anything.

“You said you’d let me go if I did what... what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want any of this,” Derek breathed, making Jackson flinch again, fuck. He just couldn’t seem to figure out how to talk to Jackson, what set him off. There was so much Derek didn’t know about the boy in front of him. “I’m not keeping you a prisoner,you _can_ go home. I’m just trying to figure this out - us, the bond - and if you’d just give me a chance-”

“I’m not giving you anything! If you think you can just-”

“You don’t have a choice!” Derek interrupted harshly, his eyes glowing bright blue for a second. Why couldn’t have Jackson waited until after the full moon to demand some answers when he knew that Derek was a werewolf. He should have known how it would affect Derek. This was the one thing all those movies about werewolves got right, damn it.

Jackson took a hasty step back, almost tripped over his own feet. Derek felt bad, intimidating his mate like this - actually, bad didn’t cover it, _horrible_ was more like it - but he was out of options and Jackson had responded to it before. “ _We_ don’t have a choice. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

“What do you mean, _stuck_?”Jackson spat out, his eyes glinting in the dim, soft light of the hallway.

“I mean-..” He had to say it. He had to come clean. Now or never. He couldn’t keep lying to his mate, he just couldn’t. Everything inside him screamed at him to just _tell the truth_ and deal with the fallout. Face the fucking consequences.

If his mate chose to leave him, that was his own fault.

“What. Do. You. Mean.” Jackson forced out, his entire body strung so tight that Derek could see it was hurting him.

“I mean... it’s going to take some time. Until we can break the bond. So we’re stuck for now and we should-... deal with it the best we can. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Some of the tension left Jackson’s body, slowly bleeding out until he took a deep breath, nodding his consent to Derek’s words.

Derek felt like the biggest bastard in the entire world.

“Fine. What now?” Jackson asked.

“Can we talk?”

“Not now. I have to get back to school. Lacrosse practice in a few minutes. Tonight?”

“It’s the full moon.” Derek shook his head.

“Oh.”

“Tomorrow?”

The unspoken _please_ hung in the air between them. The muscles in Jackson’s jaw worked for a moment and Derek internally braced himself for another rejection but then Jackson nodded and turned to leave.

“Come after ten. I’ll leave the window open. If you don’t show, you can go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll be there.”

\- - -

_Run._

_Run, run run, don’t let him get away._

_Don’t let him see you. If he notices you following him, you’re dead._

Derek crouched down low behind an old-fashioned brick chimney, broad enough to hide him with its shadows. He didn’t dare get closer than a few hundred feet for fear of the wind changing directions and revealing him and his location but it was enough to watch the Alpha slowly making his way over the roofs of Beacon Hills toward the high school.

Again, the school. Something was seriously wrong with that place.

The Alpha was moving with purpose, stopping occasionally to scent the air but he clearly knew his destination, his target, had it picked and located.

Derek hadn’t planned on chasing the Alpha, hadn’t even been looking for him at that point, but in the night after the full moon, the Alpha was just as restless as he was, just as wound up, just as careless. He hadn’t seen Derek walking in the distance as he’d passed him in the woods, hadn’t heard Derek’s breath hitch in surprise at the split-second decision to follow him, hadn’t picked up on Derek’s scent as they both jumped from roof to roof.

Derek quietly checked the time on his cellphone. 9.15 pm. Still more than enough time to get to Jackson’s after.

Derek entered the combination for speed dial number two with quick fingers, taking a deep, calming breath as he waited for Scott to answer.

This could be their chance to find out the Alpha’s identity, their only chance maybe, and Derek would never be able forgive himself if he wasted it.

\- - -

_Run._

_Run, run run. Don’t let them catch you._

_If they catch you, you’re dead._

Tires were screeching behind him, as two cars took the corner at full speed. Derek lengthened his strides even more, trying to put some distance between them so he could slip away in the dark, fool them, lose them, but the police cars matched his speed and a third, civilian car appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

Derek jerked his body around, lost his footing at the sudden change in direction and hit the pavement hard but he jumped to his feet and made a mad dash for the only gap between the cars. He heard shouting behind him, car doors opening and _dogs_ , fucking dogs barking and their little claws clicking on the pavement as they chased him, how had they known to bring _dogs_ to a break-in. They must have expected him, must have picked up on Scott’s murder accusations and put two and two together when a break-in at the school was reported.

Derek’s lungs burned as he tried to pick up speed but the dogs were too fast, too focused, he couldn’t lose them, so he changed tactics and whipped around, pushing, _shoving_ the wolf forward until his eyes glowed a bright blue and his fangs dropped so fast it hurt. One deep, heartfelt growl and the dogs ran for the hills as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Dogs down, hunters and police to go.

A bullet whizzed past his temple and hit the bulldozer in an explosion of sparks that clouded his vision for the fraction of a second, just enough for Argent, fucking Chris Argent, to fire off a second one, missing him again, sheer luck.

A car approached on his right with a dull, familiar rumble, _finally_ , and Derek jumped forward, wrenching the car door open just as Argent decided to waste his entire clip on him.

“Go!” Derek shouted before the door was even closed, unnecessary as Scott was way ahead of him and they pulled away from the plant.

Derek forced his rapid heart rate down so he could talk, explain. He remembered his last conversation with Laura perfectly, down to every little detail. The fire in her eyes at the thought of finding the one responsible for their family’s death. How her hands had shaken in excitement when she pulled out two sheets of paper, a list and a drawing. The way her hair had kept falling in front of her eyes as she’d explained and showed him the pencil drawing of a foreign symbol of a wolf howling to the moon.

“I’ve seen it... on a necklace,” Scott spoke, his voice strained, tight. “Allison’s necklace.”

Allison. Argent. It all came down to them, the hunters, every time Derek thought he’d found a piece of the puzzle. It was like running into a brick wall, again and again because the bricks kept turning into glass so clear that he couldn’t see it until he smashed right into it.

Derek shoved the drawing back into his pocket as Scott took a turn and stopped in front of Stiles’ house. The old jeep was the only car in the drive way, so the sheriff hadn’t returned yet.

“Alright, this is me!” Stiles chirped. “Delightful hanging out with you guys, as always, so let’s never do this again.”

Derek couldn’t help but agree with him for once.

“Let me drive. I’ll take you home,” he told Scott and undid his seat belt.

“Uh, sure.” Scott nodded and switched places with him.

The itchy burning sensation in Derek’s leg was distracting and he could have just as well let Scott take himself home and switched with him there but he could feel the scratches from where he’d hit the pavement slowly close to nothing until just the long tears in his pants reminded him of the fall and he usually enjoyed the feeling of easy, meaningless control that driving gave him.

Still, he should make a quick stop, change clothes and clean himself up a little before-

“What time is it.” Derek asked slowly, shooting a useless glance at the unlit display of the clock in his dashboard. He really needed to have that fixed.

Scott’s jeans rustled softly as he fished his cellphone out of his front pocket. “Almost eleven,” He read and Derek’s stomach sank.

His foot slammed down on the breaks and Scott was thrown forward in his seat, only the seat belt preventing him from going straight through the windshield. “What-”

“We’re almost at your house, you can walk the rest. I have to be somewhere,” Derek interrupted him while he quickly calculated in his head: Fifteen minutes to Jackson’s house, thirteen if he really stepped on it, three more to enter his house through the window, assuming Jackson hadn’t barricaded it with high-strength carbon steel bars by now.

“Are you going back to the school? Derek, there are cops everywhere and Mr. Harris is probably at the station right now. At least wait a few days-”

A well-executed glare made Scott shut up and leave the car, almost falling flat on his face in his haste as his foot tangled up in the seat belt but Derek ignored him.

An hour and fifteen minutes late. That was... excusable. Right? Forgivable, even. With a really good explanation. Which Derek had.

Knowing the Alpha’s identity was in everyone’s best interest, even Jackson’s. Their last encounter had left Jackson mostly unscathed, if a little spooked, but there was no guarantee that the Alpha wouldn’t change his mind and go after Jackson again to hurt Derek.

It was hardly even Derek’s fault.

Still. Derek was late, really late, and Jackson wasn’t exactly known for his forgiving heart

\- - -

Derek carefully circled around the Whittemore’s house, trying to determine the window to Jackson’s room, without being seen or heard by Jackson’s parents or any nosy neighbours.

Two open windows on the first floor, both on the backside of the house, but one was small, like a bathroom window, and there was a faint light coming from the other. The yard was mostly void of any trees he could have climbed, so the pipe leading up to the smaller of the two windows was his best bet as the following jump to Jackson’s window would be easy.

Derek wished he could ring the door bell like a normal person, just once. He didn’t remember when he’d last used a door bell. Derek didn’t usually creep on purpose. More often than not, he didn’t notice he was being creepy until the damage was already done.

Right now though, he was entirely aware of it, as he quietly climbed the pipe up to the first floor, carefully staying clear of the thorny, neatly trimmed rose bushes covering the base of the pipe and testing the stability of the pipe’s fastenings before he put his weight on it.

He listened closely for any unusual sounds, any signs of someone being still awake but it was quiet, except for someone snoring in a room on the front side of the house. Still, when he pulled himself up by the window sill and somewhat gracefully slid into Jackson’s room - it was indeed Jackson’s, the lacrosse posters on the wall were quite the giveaway - he braced himself to have a furious Jackson either latching onto him like a pitbull and yelling until he woke the entire neighborhood or showing him the coldest shoulder he could muster up and sulking until Derek gave up and left on his own.

Neither happened.

Derek stood immobile for a moment and watched the sleeping figure on the bed. Jackson was fully clothed, lying above the sheets but completely tangled up in them, like he’d lain down with no intention of falling asleep but had lost the fight against exhaustion.

The boy looked the part too, with dark circles under his eyes, standing out against his pale skin. Even his scent spoke of fatigue, something Derek had never smelled before but could classify easily.

He couldn’t wake him. No way could he wake his mate when he was in this state. Trying to have that much needed talk now would do none of them any good either, so Derek turned to leave when a stray memory stopped him.

 _You didn’t have_ a minute _to call me and let me know that you’re alive?_

No need to make the same mistake twice.

Derek looked around for a piece of paper and a pen so he could leave Jackson a note on his nightstand, underneath his cellphone maybe, so he’d definitely see and know that Derek had been there like he’d promised.

What to write, though? _Didn’t want to wake you, come see me tomorrow_? No. _Call me?_ It didn’t feel right.

Derek frowned and turned toward the bed again, trying to sort his thoughts. Jackson moved unruly in his sleep, shivering, maybe fighting a bad dream, so Derek carefully pulled the free part of the blanket that Jackson was lying on over him like a cocoon but the shivering didn’t stop and he closed the window as well, even though it was a warm night out.

Still no good.

Derek fought with himself for a minute, two, five. He could write the note and leave, it would probably even be the right thing to do in this scenario, right by Jackson, but it just felt so _wrong._

To keep this kind of distance from his mate, to be hesitant to approach him, to warm, to comfort. And Jackson felt it too.

“You’ll kill me for this when you wake up,” Derek murmured as he toed his shoes off and shrugged out of his jacket. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you. You asked me not to. So I’ll just-...” He climbed on the bed and leaned against the headboard, settling in for a long wait. “-stay here. Until you wake up. We can talk then.”

Jackson didn’t wake at Derek’s words, but he instinctively turned and inched closer to the sudden, warm presence on his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a chapter that you either love or hate. There is so much more that needs to be discussed between those two but I don't feel like they're ready for it yet. So get comfortable, guys, there's quite a bit more to come.


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